


Eating Together, Drinking Alone

by tact_and_impulse



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Bickering, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Past, F/M, Family Feels, Fleshed Out Backgrounds for Secondary Characters, Humor, Original Character Death(s), Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 60,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tact_and_impulse/pseuds/tact_and_impulse
Summary: Featuring a savvy Meiji businesswoman, an arrogant retired swordsman, and banter over meals. (Or, what happens if Tae and Hiko meet.) Complete.





	1. Bento

**Author's Note:**

> Born from a crack-y headcanon in the aftermath of Ruroken Week 2015. Basically, it was Tae being so relieved at not having to nag Sano that she goes to Kyoto for a vacation. Suddenly, a man bursts in, excited over a baby's birth or something, and causes chaos. Tae snaps. Hiko learns to be afraid and intrigued all at once.

Brown rice. Boiled eggs. Fresh, diced radish and carefully washed greens.

“Easy on the stomach, good for recovery.” Tae reminded as Kaoru made a face.

“I know that, and thank you, Tae.” Still, her pout and furrowed brow betrayed her singular concern.

“It tastes plain because too much seasoning would ruin your milk.”

“Tae-dono means well, Kaoru-dono.” Kenshin added, rocking baby Kenji in his arms. The newest resident of Kamiya Dojo was less than a month old: red-faced, copper-haired, and a snuffling small bundle. “And the bento is a nice reminder of Akabeko cooking.”

“I know you won’t be able to attend re-opening night, so that’s why we stopped by.” Two years had passed since the Akabeko was destroyed, but after months of rebuilding and refurnishing, the place was ready to be back in business at last. “Although, Yahiko-kun might be there.” She glanced outside, a mischievous smile playing at her lips at the sight of two figures in the shade.

Tsubame had brought a bento of her own making, for Yahiko. The girl looked nervous but happy, as he scarfed down the food. He had been training hard, since there were more students to teach and he had to take over lessons for a while.

“It’s lunchtime, so you can have the box I brought for you, Kenshin-san.” She coaxed. “I can hold Kenji-chan while you eat.”

“You just want an excuse.” Kaoru laughed, but the baby was passed over to Tae. He was warm and drowsy. Absolute bliss.

* * *

Once a month, Hiko would head to the former capital of Kyoto and sell his pottery. These trips were born from necessity, since his supplies and liquor would run out.

He would have been perfectly fine, carrying his wares on his back. But no, he had to look _presentable_  or no one would buy from him. So here he was, lugging around a dinky cart with a rusty bell. The rent always had to be negotiated down too, since the owner was a greedy little rat. It was a detestable part of the price he paid for bringing art into the world.

The other part was dealing with customers. There were the browsers, who stared at him and his pathetic cart with big eyes and didn’t purchase anything. There were the pompous ones, who compared his works unfavorably with those from Tokyo (well, they weren’t in Tokyo, so buy something or leave, damn you). And then there were the wishy-washy ones, who hemmed and hawed and loitered because they just couldn’t  _decide_ (he’d count off three seconds before he’d pick up and move on for sanity). Those who actually knew what they wanted were few and far between.

Today’s sales were poor due to the heat. Hiko grimaced as he surrendered a few coins for a subpar bento. The air was stifling, and he was drowning under his clothes.

“Thanks for the meal.” He muttered in the shade of a back alley. When the hell could he go back home?


	2. Hiyayakko

The ticket was crisp between her fingers. Tempting and forbidden.

“If you don’t use it, that money will go to waste.” Yahiko warned. Appealing to her thrifty side, how diabolical.

“Tae-san, you really should take this vacation.” Tsubame insisted. She and Yahiko were about to eat dinner, while Tae herself was about to wash dishes when they had ambushed her with a gift.

“I’d have to close the Akabeko. And why would I do that? We just reopened last week!”

“Tsubame can cook, and we can roll around with the ‘Beko again.” Yahiko was referring to their former mode of business: selling meal containers out of a cheap wagon. “Besides, it’s Obon. Everyone’s going to cemeteries instead of eating out.”

“We’ve been open in the past!” She waved him off, but as soon as she did, a wave of nausea swept over her.

“Just look at you, you can barely stand.”

“Will this help, Tae-san?” Tsubame held up a piece of chilled tofu between chopsticks. Had she made that? She opened her mouth for a taste. It was good; if Tsubame could only get better after this, the future was bright.

_I could see Sae. And business is slow, with the heat and Obon. Speaking of which, I could visit the graves in Kyoto…_

And in her weakness, she relented.

* * *

The taste of hiyayakko lingered in his mouth as he entered the post office. He didn’t get mail very often, but after missing an invitation to the wedding of his baka deshi and the tanuki girl, he found himself meandering to the building every time he visited Kyoto. After all, there would always be the slight chance that he’d be invited to drink free liquor and who’d be stupid enough to pass that up?

To his pleasant surprise, there was something for him. A small, white envelope, decorated with his baka deshi’s horrible scrawl.

Should he open it now? More importantly, would he even be able to read it?

He tore open the paper anyway, squinting at the handwriting. The message was short, something about how his baka deshi and the tanuki girl were parents and they had a baby-

Wait, a baby? Like an actual miniature person? Those lovey-dovey idiots?  _Reproduced?!_

He glared back at the letter. More blurred characters, describing soft cheeks and reddish hair and Himura Kenji. Everyone was doing well, and it would be nice if he came for the baby’s first shrine visit…

A wicked grin crept up his mouth. This called for celebration. The place where he had eaten was pretty good. What was it called again? Ah, yes.

The Shirobeko. That was it.


	3. Sake

The Shirobeko was busy, but that was to be expected. With its long-standing history, the restaurant had become sort of a tourist attraction as well.

“Tae, I already told you!” Sae hissed. “You don’t have to help out, just sit down and relax!”

But she already had plates in both hands and was about to head into the dining area. “I can’t let a pregnant woman go and exert herself.”

Her sister gaped, her hand unconsciously curving over her flat stomach. “How did you know?”

Tae only rolled her eyes. “Lucky guess!” Then, she was out among the diners.

 _Did she really think I wouldn’t notice?_  She gave a winning smile to the customers at Table 1 as she set down their dishes.  _She’s been drinking ginger tea and Toru’s been treating her like glass all day._

Table 8 in the corner was clear and clean, one of the serving girls called out on her way to the kitchen.

And that was when hell entered the building.

The first thing she noticed was:  _height_. She had to tilt her head back to catch a glimpse of the man’s head. The next thing she thought was:  _why on earth is he wearing a coat?_

But both thoughts evaporated when he roared. “Table for one! And bring me the best sake in here!”

Everyone was silent, staring. Tae recoiled.

“Eh? What are all of you bugging your eyes at? You have a problem with a man celebrating a baby’s birth?” At this, discomfort rippled through the room and attention diverted to meals, drinks, anywhere but the titanic nuisance in the doorway.

Tae smoothed her apron and squared her shoulders. The rule with rowdy customers was always to quickly and professionally handle them, so the annoyance could be kept to a minimum. “Right this way, sir.” She briskly escorted him to the table and handed him a menu. “Our drinks are listed below. Do you have an idea of what you’d want?”

“Mm, you have a good selection here.” He studied the list carefully. He looked to be only a few years older than her, maybe half a decade or so. His profile was oddly contradictory: almost elegant facial features beneath wild hair, the hard line of his mouth against taut skin. He rattled off a series of the most expensive brands, and she noted them down with trepidation. “Oh, and give me the bottles.”

She blinked. “Sir, you do realize how much money that’ll be?”

He scoffed. “That doesn’t matter. I saved the entire city a few years ago; doesn’t that entitle me to drinks on the house? It’s not every day I come down to Kyoto, so you might as well make my visit worth it.”

Oh, that was it. Perhaps it was the pent-up stress of the day, maybe it was the reminder of freeloading, but now, she’d had enough.

Tae slammed her fist on the table, rattling the wooden surface. Blood pounded in her ears, and she gave a stony glare to the customer. “You think you can just march in here, disturb the entire restaurant, demand expensive sake without charge, and get away with it?! You might be our guest here, but that gives you no excuse or right to make a mockery of our establishment!”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a serving girl edging to the nearest table, balancing a tray with a sake bottle and a few cups. Everyone was watching, as the customer blinked in surprise. Then, his eyes narrowed, and while the look was clearly ominous, she continued anyway.

“If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not going to work. I didn’t have my life’s work blown up and rebuilt from scratch, just so I could bow my head to another freeloader. And when I was finally rid of the last one too! You want free sake? You can have it!” And with that, she grabbed the sake bottle and splashed the contents on his infuriating face.

A second later, she thought:  _oh, damn, now I’ve done it._

“Masa-san, Yasu-san, can you escort this customer out, please?” She called out to the burliest members of the kitchen staff in her sweetest voice. Then, she picked up her feet and hurried out, as if there were coals burning her every step.


	4. Chazuke

“I’m very sorry about that, sir. You see, I haven’t been feeling well and I snapped.” The woman bowed her head in clear remorse. “Please forgive me; I can serve you any bottle you choose, if you’d like.”

“That’s fine and all, but I want to speak to the woman who’s responsible for this. And that’s not you.” Hiko huffed. There was sake dripping off his face, but that didn’t matter at the moment. “You must be her sister, but I know it wasn’t you who just stood me down.”

The woman frowned, and while that expression was exactly like the one he had seen minutes before, she was not the same person. He, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi, wasn’t an easy person to fool.

“Sir,” She said carefully. “if there are any concerns, you’re free to express yourself to the establishment’s representative. That would also be me.”

“I’m not leaving until I talk to her. I’ll stay here until closing if that’s what it takes.”

At this, she gave a frustrated sigh. “Very well. Please wait.” She headed into the back, and after she disappeared behind the cloth curtain, he waited.

For about thirty seconds. Then, he stood and moved to loiter beside the curtain. Two female voices, nearly identical, reached his ears.

“Sae! I’m not going back out there. I’m through with dealing with hardheaded men.”

“Tae…he’s threatening to stay until we close. And, even more, he knows it wasn’t me who dealt with him. He knew right away!”

Silence. And suddenly, the curtain moved back to reveal a woman. Her hair was in a knot under her kerchief, and her large eyes widened when she saw him. Then, she straightened up and set her mouth in a thin line.

“Yes, sir?” She inquired, her expression tense with apprehension. Ah, this was her. “I’m sorry about losing my temper, but you have to understand that this is a business establishment. We cannot give preferential treatment to any customer, although we will cover the costs of your meal as an apology.”

“For someone who says she’s sorry, you don’t sound very sorry at all.” He laughed and inclined his head. “Not that it matters. I should be the one apologizing. Forgive me, I was too excited over some good news.”

“That doesn’t entitle you to be rude.” The woman, _Tae-san_ , countered.

Rude? Well, perhaps he had been overbearing. And it wasn’t as if he could tell a stranger how much this meant to him. No, absolutely not. That entailed diving into a slew of memories, ones he had never told his baka deshi.

“I’ll pay for the sake.” He said instead. “And that was all I wanted, not a meal or anything.”

The corner of her mouth quirked in thought, and his gaze drew to the action as she spoke. “Please be seated at your table, and I’ll bring a fresh bottle to you.”

“Very well.” He acquiesced and noticed that she watched him closely before disappearing behind the curtain.

He had to admit he was intrigued. She had stood up to him, with that intense fire in her eyes. The shock of her wrath had made his stomach curdle. It was exhilarating, something he hadn’t felt since the battle in this city. That in itself was frightening.

He was mulling over this deeply enough to nearly miss Tae-san’s approach. “This is the best we have.” She poured the clear liquor into a porcelain cup and placed the bottle at his table, with the label in view. The price made him grimace and she noticed.

“It’s at half discount, since you did apologize.”

“How about I pay full price, if you toast with me?”

“…no.” But to his amusement, she was flushed and jumped when another waitress approached with a tray.

“Ah, thank you. Here you are, dear guest.” Tae-san smiled, rather sadistically, as she set a small bowl in front of him. “This is free, of course.”

Green tea threatened to spill over the brim, already drowning a scoop of rice. Chazuke, served to guests when the establishment wanted to send a certain message.

_Please leave._

He smirked. If that was what she wanted, who was he to protest? Still, he would be in Kyoto for one more day, and already, he was formulating excuses to return.


	5. Kakigori

“And then, Tae-san threw the sake right in his face!” Masa recounted her breaking point with gusto, and the young men around him roared with laughter.

From her spot in the kitchen, Tae heard them and groaned. The story was spreading like wildfire; if it hadn’t been for the long-standing reputation of her family and the anonymity of the stranger, business would have suffered.

The Shirobeko had just opened for lunch, nearly a full day after the incident. And friends of the employees, like Masa’s, were clamoring for details.

“Where is Tae-san anyway?” One asked.

“She’s working.” A cheerful female voice answered. “And so should you, Masa-san!”

A smile crept up Tae’s face. That was Hotaka, a younger waitress whose enthusiasm certainly made up for her lack of experience.

The back door opened, and she looked up from pouring out broth to see her brother-in-law. “Hello, Toru. How’s Sae doing?”

“She’s very nauseous so I gave her some ginger tea. I hope it’ll pass soon.” His eyebrows drew together in worry. “Thank you for being here, Tae.”

“It’s not a problem.” But she couldn’t hide her own anxiety. “Would you like me to ask Masa-san to go for a doctor? It doesn’t sound as if he’s particularly busy. Or I could go.”

“No, I’ll go later; she’s asleep right now. And we need you here to clear out the rabble.”

She grimaced. “I haven’t lost my temper like that in years!”

“Well, it brought back old memories.” Toru had grown up with her and Sae, and he was the first outside their family to tell them apart.

“Tae-san, he’s back again!”

Her stomach dropped at the sound of Hotaka’s message. She had thought that would have been the last of him, he had seemed conciliatory enough.

“Oh, dear.” Another waitress, Aki, exclaimed. “What is that?”

That was enough to lure Tae out, and she stormed past the kitchen curtain to the dining area. The man was back, height and cape and all. But the cheap-looking cart beside him, laden with a variety of dishes and vases, was unfamiliar.

He saw her through the window and did not wave. Instead, he looked right into her eyes and the corner of his mouth drew upward in a self-satisfied smirk.

Fixing a smile onto her face, she exited the Shirobeko to greet him. “Hello, sir, are you dining with us today?”

“Not today.” He gestured to the cart. “Go ahead. Have your pick.”

She glanced at the sign above the pottery, announcing the name of the maker in slapdash calligraphy. “I’m sorry, but I’m occupied at the moment. And I don’t know who Ni'itsu Kakunoshin is.”

“That would be me.”

Tae blinked. “You?”

“Do you doubt my artistic skills?”

“Not at all, I only expected such handiwork to come from an artist.” The subtle jibe made his eyelid twitch, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Her attention turned to the pottery, and she grudgingly admitted that the craftsmanship was excellent.

“And your name would be?” He asked.

“Sekihara Tae.” She told him the kanji for clarification and immediately regretted it.

“‘Gateway’ and 'field’? Same characters as in Sekigahara.” His voice dissolved into laughter.

“Yes, yes, how funny.” It was purely coincidence; as far as she knew, no ancestor of hers had fought in the famous battle. “When you said 'have your pick’, what-” She stopped short, looking at him.

“What?” He demanded, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It came off glistening with sweat.

“Aren’t you overheating in that coat?”

“No.”

A sound of exasperation escaped her. “I won’t mind if you take it off.”

“I mind. Anyway, go and choose whatever you like from the cart. No charge.” He said gruffly.

 _How can I do that, when you’re about to melt in this summer heat?_ And then, she had an idea.

“Ni'itsu-san, I promise I’ll choose what I want later. First, come with me.” She headed down the street, only glancing back to make sure he followed.

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.” She said cryptically and rounded the corner. Although the season birthed a number of shaved ice sellers, she was particularly fond of this shop. It wasn’t that well-known, but the owners liked to experiment with flavors and sneak samples to the neighborhood children. She was one of them, once, and summer always reminded her of the sour chill of lemon kakigori.

There was a worker she didn’t recognize at the booth, but she ordered anyway. “One lemon, please.” She handed off the money and pivoted, nearly bumping into Ni'itsu-san.

“You came here for shaved ice?” He deadpanned. “If you were hungry, you could have told me to come back later.”

“It isn’t for me, it’s for you.” She corrected, folding her arms.

He scoffed. “Don’t feel like you have to exchange anything for the pottery. That’s my apology to you, and I don’t like to be indebted.”

“This has nothing to do with the other day. This is about your health, since you won’t take off that coat.”

“I’ve lived through plenty of summers with this coat and plenty of winters without it.”

“And yet, you seemed drenched.” At this, he glared at her, but she didn’t budge.

The kakigori arrived in a paper cup, soaked in lemon juice. “Here you are.” She handed it to him, but he didn’t take it.

“I don’t like sweets.”

“It isn’t sweet at all, and I can vouch for the taste. I grew up on this.”

“Sekihara.” The way he said her name was foreboding, and he repeated. “I don’t like to be indebted.”

“You’re not the first stubborn man I’ve dealt with, and I’m certainly not going to give in now.” Then, she added. “If you collapsed from heatstroke, I’d blame myself.”

Slowly, his fingers took the shaved ice from her. She smiled, victorious, and he muttered. “I’m taking it so you’re not tempted to throw it on my face.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.” She reassured him.

They walked back in silence for a time. He made no comment about the treat, but she noticed that he was eating slowly, as if he wanted to savor it.

She tried to start a conversation. “Do you live far from here?”

“I live outside of Kyoto. If you were wondering, I probably won’t see you again, at least until I finish more pieces.”

She prickled a little. “I wasn’t. And I’ll be leaving by the end of the week.”

“Oh? You’re not a local?”

“Well…I don’t live here anymore; I was only visiting family. I work in Tokyo.”

“I see.” He looked thoughtful, and she asked.

“Have you been there before?”

“Of course not.” He said, and they reached the Shirobeko. “Time to fulfill your promise. And don’t rob me. I have other clients to visit.”

She picked a plain water pitcher, but stopped him before he could move on. “This is mine, but I want to buy a couple gifts.”

Tae scanned the rest of the cart with a critical eye, but she made sure she was quick. For Tsubame, there was a mortar and pestle, since she was helping more with cooking. For Yahiko, she chose a green bowl. She bought two sets of teacups as well. One set was for Sae and Toru, each cup bearing a black rim that sharply contrasted with the tan color below. She reserved the other set for Kaoru and Kenshin, since the lovely indigo glaze reminded her of the eyes of their new baby.

“Thank you for the ice and the business, Sekihara. You’re one of the few people who bought something without aggravating me. Congratulations.” She didn’t feel as if that were something to be proud of, but he readied the cart and bowed his head. “See you later.”

“Isn’t it goodbye?” She retorted.

To her confusion, he only laughed and set off. And somehow, she found herself still standing in the same spot, until he turned into a side street and disappeared.


	6. Onigiri

Hiko looked at the sign again. It still read that it was the Kamiya Kasshin dojo, which meant he was at the right place. Even if he felt like his eyes were deceiving him.

The dojo door was partly open, and he caught a glimpse of the tanuki girl in uniform, overseeing a handful of boys. That wasn’t his problem, it was the sight outside of the building.

Under a tree in the yard, a man rinsed a shirt in a large tub. His red hair was bound in a rather messy bun at the top of his head. A sling was wrapped around his back, holding an infant. There was a squeaking sound, probably from the infant, and the man started humming an offkey tune.

His idiot apprentice was  _a housewife._

At that moment, violet eyes glanced up and widened. “Shishou! How long were you there?”

He grudgingly passed the gate, stepping onto the grass. “Long enough to think that I had the address wrong.”

His apprentice stood, reaching behind him to support the baby. “We weren’t expecting you until the end of the week.”

“Well, I’m here and that’s that.” He said dryly. “I didn’t want to miss the event, since I missed the last important one.”

“This one apologizes for that, and we missed you. The wedding invitations should have been sent out earlier.”

“I’m surprised they were sent at all, considering how occupied you must have been with each other.”

The idiot’s face turned a shade darker than his hair and he opened his mouth to retort. Just then, the dojo door slid further back. The tanuki girl’s blue gaze was on him, and she bowed in greeting. “Welcome to our home, Hiko-san. Sorry, but I haven’t even prepared your room yet. After practice is over, that’s the first thing I’ll do.”

“Don’t trouble yourself. I was planning to stay at an inn.”

“Nonsense, you’re our guest, so you should stay with us. Besides, we have enough space and you’re welcome any time.” She beamed. “After all, you’re Kenshin’s family.”

He turned to his apprentice. “See, boy? That’s how hospitality should be.”

“Shishou…” He said darkly.

The girl’s students were crowding around her, looking at him curiously, and she explained. “This is Kenshin’s master, Hiko Seijuro.”

“Whoa!”

“Does that mean you use Hiten Mitsurugi?”

“Can you teach us some moves?”

“Sure.” He said.

“Really?!”

“No. And don’t disrespect your master by trying to switch to another school.”

Her expression was a mixture of surprise and relief. “Thank you, Hiko-san.”

“Respect between master and disciple is important.” He meaningfully eyed the baka deshi at that, and received a belligerent glare.

“Hey, ugly, can I stay over too? I have to work at the Akabeko tomorrow morning, and Tsubame and I have to get supplies.” There was a spiky-haired boy addressing the tanuki girl.

He studied the boy. Had they met before? Oh, that was right. He had been with the girl when they visited his home. Too bad he couldn’t remember his name. But, the Akabeko. That sounded close to the Shirobeko…and it was in Tokyo…

“Shishou, Kaoru-dono asked you a question.”

“What is it?” He snapped to attention.

“Repeat that thing about respect to this boy here.” She glared at her student. “Yahiko- _chan_.”

“You do it, you’re his teacher.”

“He never listens to me anyway! Fine, Yahiko, take your old room, but make your own bed. And don’t complain if Kenji cries in the middle of the night.” She threw up her hands and walked over to her husband. She patted the baby’s back, and he cooed at her. “Kaa-chan will be done soon, okay? Be a good boy for Tou-chan. Kenshin, I’ll come join you after practice finishes.”

“We’ll be waiting. Do your best, Kaoru-dono.”

They exchanged smiles and prolonged gazes, and Hiko held back a groan. If he’d known they were still in the newlywed phase, he would have delayed his arrival.

* * *

“Himura Kenji. That’s a good, strong name.” Hiko nodded with approval, looking down at the baby basket. Underneath a white blanket, the little boy blinked at him and pursed his mouth.

The baby’s father was in the kitchen, and the smell of cooking rice filled the air. “Kaoru-dono took a character from my name and another from her father’s.”

“Ah, so you let her choose the name?” He lowered a knuckle towards the baby’s fist, and the chubby hand uncurled to grip it. It felt like a tiny pillow, and he tried very hard not to react.

“Kaoru-dono wanted to, and this one couldn’t say no to her.”

“I suppose you couldn’t. It’s clear that she has you on a leash.”

Suddenly, Kenji yanked his arm to one side, and pain shot through Hiko’s finger. He removed his strained joint, biting off the startled sound that escaped him.

“Shishou?” His apprentice hurried over, quickly setting a plate on the table. “What happened?”

“The brat tried to dislocate my finger.” Said brat was looking rather innocent, the expression obviously inherited from the father.

The idiot smiled. “Shishou, he’s only a baby. He doesn’t know any better. There’s onigiri here, if you’re hungry, and the tea should be ready soon.”

He was so whipped, his baka deshi. “Laundry, cooking. Do you make flower arrangements as well?”

“Shishou…” His voice had an edge to it. So, he did have some dignity left.

“Then again, you never had a taste for art.”

“Is that why we received a vase last year?”

“It was your wedding gift, and I haven’t seen it anywhere. I hope you didn’t break it with your clumsiness.”

“It’s in one of the guest rooms, along with Kaoru-dono’s grandfather’s paintings.”

“Hmph. As it should be.” But he was pleased and changed the subject by reaching for a triangle of rice. “Onigiri, huh? I remember onigiri was the first thing you tried to make by yourself. And they tasted terrible.” He bit into the rice and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t too salty. “At least you’ve improved since then.”

“This one does what he can for his family.” His apprentice had a familiar, determined look on his face. He had seen it many times, but this expression had love in it as well. It was a fierce love, something reserved for the blue-eyed girl and their baby. That was different about his apprentice, and it was that love that would redeem him.

He softened just a little. “Make them happy.”

“Of course. What else would this one do?” He left the table briefly to return with a teapot and teacups. After he finished pouring for them both, he took Kenji in his arms. The baby reached for his father’s bangs, but the inquisitive, destructive hand was gently pushed away. “This one hasn’t said this yet, but this one is glad that you could be here.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.” He said lamely and stared down at his tea. Recognition then struck him; this cup was  _his_. The blue of the glaze had been from powdered lapis lazuli, bought from a Kyoto merchant. There were a few sets, but he definitely hadn’t given one to his baka deshi and the tanuki girl. And he was sure this was his work, just from the feel and make of it.

Damn, maybe he’d have to take back what he said, about his apprentice’s lack of taste.

He cleared his throat, rubbing the glaze. “Where did you get these cups?”

“Oro? Our friend, Tae-san, gave them to us as a gift. She visited Kyoto last month, and they’re a souvenir. It was very kind of her, she said the rim is the same color as Kenji’s eyes.” At this, the idiot dotingly looked his son.

“I see. That  _is_  nice of her.” He tried to sound casual. “Will she be here for the shrine visit?”

“She will be bringing Kenji to the shrine. Why do you ask, Shishou?”

“No reason.” He grinned and swallowed the rest of his onigiri. “No reason at all, baka deshi.”


	7. Sekihan

Tae knocked on the Himuras’ door, hoping she wasn’t too early. She had woken before dawn to prepare  _sekihan_  and find her best kimono. The sun was just barely up, but she felt strangely energetic, unlike Tsubame. Beside her, the girl lifted a hand to cover her mouth, widening with a yawn.

“Do you think they heard us, Tae-san?” She asked, blinking hard.

“If not, we’ll knock again. And I’m sorry, Tsubame-chan, for taking you with me.”

“It’s alright. I want to be here too. Are you nervous?”

“No, not at all. I actually feel flattered that-”

There was the sound of footsteps and the door promptly opened. Kenshin was barely on his feet, dazedly meeting their eyes and adjusting the cuff of his red gi. “Good morning, Tae-dono, Tsubame-chan.”

“Good morning. I’m sorry, if we’re too early.” She added, as he stepped back to let them both inside.

“It’s not trouble.” Except for his voice, it was quiet, and there was no one at the table. Tae supposed that Kaoru was still with Kenji, deeper within the house. “Breakfast should be ready soon.”

“Oh, this is for you.” Tae offered the box of  _sekihan_  to him.

“Oro, Tae-dono did not have to do this…”

“I wanted to. And it’s a special day, so why not?”

“It is an important day.” He agreed, softly.

“Tae and Tsubame, good morning!” Kaoru seemed to be more alert, smiling as she entered the room. She was already wearing her favorite blue kimono and her hair was up in a long tail. She held Kenji to her, and his little face was buried in the crook of her neck.

Kenji was two months old, and he should have been half that age when he had his first shrine visit. But he was born a little early and small, so it had been recommended to delay the ceremony until he was healthier. It also gave Kaoru and Kenshin enough time to invite guests.

“Good morning, Kaoru. The guest list hasn’t changed, has it?” Tae inquired.

“Not at all. Kenshin’s master even came early, he’s already here.”

“Is that so?” She had only heard of him from Kaoru, picturing him as a thin man with a few wrinkles due to his age and perhaps a mustache.

“He’s still sleeping, I think. I’ll wake him and Yahiko, so would you hold Kenji for now?”

“Of course.” She gladly opened her arms to accept the baby. He blinked at her and smelled of milk, and she guessed that he was full.

“Thanks, Tae. He was a little fussy this morning, but not as much as usual. And he’s eaten already, so he should be quiet for now.” Kaoru informed, before excusing herself. The clatter of wooden doors and her voice, demanding to wake up, soon filled the household.

“You had a good breakfast, didn’t you?” She cooed to Kenji, although he seemed to be more preoccupied with the embroidered dragon on his shirt. He would probably outgrow the colorful outfit in a matter of months, but Tae supposed his parents would save it for the next baby.

“He’s very cute.” Tsubame had shed any trace of sleepiness, smiling at Kenji before turning her attention to the kitchen. “Kenshin-san, do you need any help?”

“Oro, this one is nearly done.” He was arranging food on a tray. “Thank you for offering.”

“Yahiko, I let you stay over, so why didn’t you bring your best clothes?!”

“I forgot, okay?!” He entered the room, each step exaggerated and heavy. “Stop nagging me! I’ll just wear my uniform!”

“Your uniform is filthy, and you need to set an example for everyone else! There’s a spare uniform on the clothesline, so take that.” Kaoru pointed in the direction of the yard.

“I-” He stopped short, glancing at Tsubame. Her presence must have subdued him, because he visibly slumped and muttered. “I’ll be back.” Then, he grudgingly headed outside.

“Oh, dear.” Tae sighed.

“He’s a little jealous, I think.” Kaoru said. “That tends to happen when there’s a baby in the house.”

“I am  _not_  jealous!” The protest sounded just before the door closed behind him.

“He definitely is. Anyway, we’re lucky, aren’t we, Kenshin?” Kaoru practically bounced as she approached her husband. His gaze softened at the sight of her and even more when she slipped her arms around him. “That everyone will at least look decent today. And that we have so many people who want to celebrate with us.”

His hand moved to cover hers, and he softly agreed. “That’s true.”

Tae felt warm just by looking at them and smiled down at the baby in her arms.  _Kenji is lucky too, to have parents who love each other so much._

Then, Kenshin’s gaze drew to the hallway and he smiled in greeting as a shadow approached. “Shishou, good morning. Tae-dono, Tsubame-chan. This is Hiko Seijuro, the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi and the person who raised this one.”

She glanced up, and her heart nearly stopped. Instead of the mustached, thin man she had expected, there was a familiar face. His head almost reached the top of the doorway, and she would have laughed if she didn’t feel so shocked. He was wearing a yukata instead of his coat, and without the collar, his cheekbones were more defined and his eyes less shadowed. But it was still him, and that low, dry voice left the sour quirk of his mouth. “I didn’t ask you to tell my life story. Then again, I wonder if any blood is in your head right now.”

This made the couple redden, but if anything, that rudeness was even more proof.

“Ni’itsu-san?!” She blurted, with equal parts recognition and secondhand mortification, but his name was drowned by Kenji’s sudden crying. Kaoru rushed over, taking the baby, and Tae noticed the odd look her friend gave her.

But if that man had heard, he didn’t show that he did. Instead, he bowed at the waist. “A pleasure to meet you, Sekihara-san.”

“Ah.” She could only say, before forcing herself to properly return the greeting. “And you as well…Hiko-san.”

Breakfast was too quiet and too fast for her to say anything more, and then, they departed. At least, as they walked, she focused completely on the simple task of holding Kenji.

Tradition dictated that a female relative carried the baby during the ceremony. But Kenshin had no family at all and Kaoru’s mother had passed away years ago. There were also no aunts or even a grandmother to speak of. So, when Kaoru had asked Tae to perform the duty, she felt honored.

 _Well, if things had been different, I might have really been a relative._  She thought as they stepped inside the shrine.

The priest was a bald little man, and he chanted in a reedy voice. She couldn’t quite catch everything, for Kenji was fidgeting as he watched the priest’s  _tamagushi_  cut the air, but there were prayers for health and happiness. It was over quickly, and both parents seemed pleased. Tsubame was smiling as well, and Yahiko had a straight face.

Then, Tae stiffened. Red wooden cups, half full of sake, were passed around. Hiko-san handed her a cup, and she could have sworn that he  _smirked_  as he did so. She downed her portion in one mouthful, and the burn of it nearly made her forget how embarrassed she felt.

Now that the ceremony was over, the most prominent issue rose to the surface and lunch was spent in a cloud of confusion. Hiko-san was Kenshin’s master, and the potter Ni’itsu-san, and the man who she had met in Kyoto. How old was he, exactly? He was at least a decade older, double her original guess and most likely even more. His face certainly didn’t show it, but then again, she had thought Kenshin was younger than her before Kaoru said otherwise. Was there an elixir of youth out there?!

Anyway, he clearly knew who she was, since he didn’t seem surprised at all by her presence. She assumed Kaoru and Kenshin were oblivious; Kenshin himself had introduced them as if they were strangers. But then again, tea was served in the cups she had bought for them. The cups that he had made, and she was sure he was laughing inside. He hadn’t told them, had he? Kaoru would have said something, if she knew-

“Oro? Tae-dono, are you alright?”

She startled, before waving Kenshin off. “Yes, I’m fine.” She determinedly turned her attention to her bowl and lifted a clump of red rice between her chopsticks. Her  _sekihan_ had turned out well, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to enjoy it.

There weren’t nearly as many guests as there had been during the wedding, but it was still noisy enough. Tsubame poured tea and chatted with a flustered-looking Yahiko. Kaoru’s other students were squabbling amongst themselves, as she spoke to two other dojo instructors. Shinomori-san and Misao-chan had arrived late, fresh off a train from Kyoto. The latter had practically dived for Kenji and refused to release him. Meanwhile, her companion tried to keep a neutral expression.

“Look at that.” Kaoru had broken away from her earlier conversation to sit beside her. “I think Misao-chan might just steal him away. But it’s the first time she’s met him, so until his nap, I’ll let her play with him. And maybe, that’ll give Aoshi-san some ideas.” She pointed out the hunched up figure in the corner. “Oh? Hiko-san’s been keeping to himself.”

Kenshin sighed. “Shishou has always been like that. Or, is he sleeping? It is hard to tell…”

As he stood to check on his master, Tae turned to Kaoru and inquired. “Is Hiko-san going to stay for very long?”

“Well, he’s been here for nearly a week. And I don’t think he’s planning to go back until…” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips in thought. “Another two weeks? That’s right, Kenshin said so.”

Tae willed her expression into a smiling mask. “I see.”

If he was going to be in town, she had no choice but to take it in stride. If he came to the Akabeko as a customer, she would have no problem serving him. In fact, she was almost looking forward to it. At least then, she could confront him.


	8. Sukiyaki

Many years ago, he had once prided himself on his ability to walk without a sound. Back then, his targets barely even opened their mouths before he descended upon them and…well. That was a completely different life. But it was early morning now, and to his disadvantage, his mark had turned onto a street that faced west. The spiky-haired boy had noticed, screamed, and tripped over himself in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, you’ve already been around me for a week.”

The boy picked himself up, smacking dirt off his person. “What are you doing?!”

“Tailing you.”

“Well, yeah, but don’t follow me like that! I thought you were a shinigami or something, with your huge shadow! And  _why_?!”

“I decided that I’ve had enough of my idiot apprentice and that sugary mood he always has with your teacher. And the kid’s been spirited away by the weasel girl and tea boy, so I’ve no reason to stay. If you get to escape somewhere, it’s only fair that I can as well.”

The boy grumbled. “It’s only the Akabeko.”

The Akabeko was exactly the reason why he was doing this, but he feigned indifference. “That’s fine.”

“Whatever. But you probably have to help out with heavy lifting. My arms are still sore from practice.”

“I said it was fine, didn’t I?”

They approached the restaurant, which was the identical twin of the Shirobeko. A mousy-looking girl was sweeping in front of the door, the broom unwieldy in her small hands.

“Hey, Tsubame.” The boy said, lifting a hand.

“Good morning, Yahiko-kun.” The girl softly greeted him, and she glanced over his head. “Good morning, Hiko-san.”

“Morning.” He said half-heartedly, trying to peer inside the building from the corner of his eye. It was empty; if Sekihara really was the owner, she would be in the back.

“Does Tae need any help right now?” The boy asked. Ah, so that was confirmation right there. Sekihara Tae had been her full name.

“She said we can set the tablecloths in a few minutes, after they finish drying.”

“Got it. Oh, and Kenshin’s master can help us with the crates.”

The girl bowed, a little nervously. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.” He drawled, but a presence within the restaurant drew his attention. There she was, inspecting the white linens in her arms and walking towards the front. She didn’t lift her head until she opened the door.

“Yahiko-kun, Tsubame-chan, let’s do our best today too-” She stopped short, widening her eyes a little. But it was only for a moment, and she continued. “And Hiko-san, welcome. We don’t open for another two hours, but I can make tea.”

“He’s here to help out.” The boy grudgingly corrected her.

Sekihara raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“That’s right.” Hiko replied and folded his arms. “I can leave, if I’m not welcome.”

“No, you are. But if you have to go somewhere else, then let me know first.”

“I’ve nothing to do for the day, so I’ll stay until closing.” He said dismissively.

She gave a thin-lipped smile. “I hope you won’t take back those words.”

“Hmph. I definitely won’t.”

***

He repeated those words to himself, gritting his teeth as he drained broth from a stockpot.

The mouse girl snapped beans, and the boy complained as he scrubbed at bowls. Meanwhile, Sekihara vigorously chopped vegetables and doled out commands in a deceptively sweet tone. He couldn’t even get a chance to  _breathe_ , before she went over yet another unfinished task.

And still, it was too early for any customers.

“Argh, I can’t get this out!” The boy plunged a bowl into the soapy water filling the sink.

“Let it soak, Yahiko-kun.” Sekihara said, in a detached way. “That should be enough for now, so please start setting the tables; we’ll be open soon. Tsubame, hand over those beans so I can steam them, and can you change the calendar date out there?”

They both left the kitchen, disappearing behind the curtain to the dining area. He set the stockpot down and grumbled. “How can you do this every day?”

“I don’t even think, I’ve been doing this my whole life. When I was a little girl, I was on dish duty. By the time I was Tsubame and Yahiko’s age, I was cooking orders. Children have to help out in the family business.” She flashed him a puzzled look. “Isn’t that normal?”

“Not that I would know.”

“I bet you were a sheltered young master, from a wealthy household.” She said, almost enviously.

He laughed. “Far from it, Sekihara, I can tell you that.”

“I suppose you’re right. They would have at least taught you to be polite.”

He glared at her, but she ignored it. Although, from the way her mouth twitched, she knew what she had said. Damn.

“Hello, hello!” A voice, far too cheerful for the hour, called out. He pulled the curtain aside a fraction to look out. The weasel girl had his baka deshi’s baby in her arms and the tea boy in her shadow. “Table for three, please!”

“Can you take their order, Hiko-san?”

“What?” He hadn’t signed up for becoming a waiter.

“I usually have other workers, but they can only come in shifts, unlike Tsubame and Yahiko. None of them have shown up yet, and I need those two to help me here. Take the menus to them, and since they’re new, you can make some suggestions.”

“And those would be?”

“We’re known for sukiyaki especially, and agedashi tofu and nimono. I’ve been complimented for green tea and miso too. Our list of sake is there, since you’re familiar in that area.”

“Mm, indeed. I don’t have much to work with, but if any of these were thrown at me, they’d be tolerable.” He exited the kitchen, pretending not to notice the indignant flare in her ki, and approached the only occupied table.

The weasel girl’s jaw dropped. “Eh?! Hiko-san, what are you doing here?”

“Here are the menus.” He placed them down unceremoniously. “And I should be the one asking that.”

“Hey, we’re babysitting Kenji-chan for today, and we heard this place was like the one in Kyoto! The sukiyaki must be good here too, right?” She turned to her companion, who shrugged.

“I’ll let you decide. One green tea, please.” Of course.

Her cheeks puffed in dismay. “Fine, Aoshi-sama. Water for me, and is there any milk at all?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then, find out, please! I can’t let him go hungry.” The brat had grabbed onto her long braid, sucking at the end. “Hey, that is  _not_  food!”

“Misao, I’ll take him.” The tea boy said and stood to accept the baby. “If there isn’t any milk, we can give him rice porridge.”

“Really?” She seemed skeptical, but handed him off.

“That’s how I cared for you, when your mother wasn’t available.” He carefully tucked Kenji in the crook of his arm, and the weasel girl stared, besotted.

Hiko spoke up. “Now that the brat’s taken care of, enough reminiscing and give me your orders.”

One teapot, a glass of water, and a cup of porridge later, he was back in the kitchen and lifting a sack of rice. The other workers, two teenagers, had arrived, and the boy gave them an earful. The mouse girl was attending to another party, darting to the kitchen for their ordered side dishes.

“Hiko-san, that’s their order!” Sekihara gestured, to a small pot of pink beef, tofu, vegetables, and noodles in boiling broth. “And don’t spill a drop!”

“Yes, yes.” He had to admit, it did smell good. The weasel girl cooed over the dish, and the tea boy nodded in approval. The baby was asleep, sucking at his thumb.

When he returned, Sekihara was laughing, and he looked at her incredulously.

“Congratulations on handling the first customers.”

***

The Akabeko was finally empty, and it was dusk when Sekihara stirred leftovers together and set the pot before them. Those who worked shifts had left, but the boy and the mouse girl stayed, scooping portions into their bowls.

“This is our dinner, by the way.” Sekihara told him. “We eat before customers show for dinner, so we’re energetic enough. And if you’re hungry afterwards, there’s some onigiri in the back.”

The mouse girl offered him a bowl, and he tried a mouthful. And then another. Damn, the pride in her sukiyaki wasn’t misplaced.

He didn’t have much time to linger, before more people entered the Akabeko. The hours flew by, as he transferred boxes and shoved tables together for larger groups. But this wasn’t any harder than training, and he told himself he could withstand it.

“Here, Hiko-san. Sit down for a minute and have a drink.” Sekihara passed him a cup of lukewarm tea, and moved on before he could protest.

She was still working, slicing meat with a hefty cleaver and slipping handfuls into different pots. Perspiration glimmered on the curve of her neck, and her hair drew taut in its chignon.

Wait. Why was he looking at her? It wasn’t attraction, he decided, it was interest. Yes, that was right.

He determinedly stared at the floating tea leaves in his cup, before choking the liquid down. He would have preferred sake, but voicing that opinion would have been suicide, when Sekihara had a knife in her hands.

They  _finally_  closed two hours before midnight. The boy left for his residence, while the mouse girl retired to her room.

“I’m leaving now.” He said, as Sekihara locked the front door. “Have a good night.”

“Good night.” She nodded, and he was about to go, when he heard her voice. “Hiko-san?”

He pivoted to look at her. “What is it now?”

“You-” She bit down on her tongue and shook her head. “Never mind. It’s been a long day, and on that note.” One hand gripped the cloth of her apron, as she bowed. “Thank you. For helping out.”

He smirked. “It was no problem at all. In fact, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?”

“Obviously, you have something to say, but I can wait. See you in the morning.” He left through the back, glancing up to admire the full moon.

Maybe, he’d regret it, but he’d be a fool to pass this chance up.


	9. Miso

“Hiko-san? Can you step outside for a moment?” Tae wasted no time, once they had finished lunch. Tsubame was cleaning the dishes, while Yahiko was at the dojo for the day.

Even without the younger boy, Hiko-san had been true to his word, arriving in the morning. Fortunately, business was not as hectic as it had been the day before, and she seized her chance. And as he said last night, he expected this, following her to the back.

Behind the Akabeko, there was a patch of quiet, grassy land. It wasn’t very large, but it was enough for their conversation to be private. She sat down on the steps and let her shoes touch the ground. He stood, leaning against the adjacent wall. The heat of the kitchen had caused him to unconsciously discard his coat, and she attempted to keep her gaze off his muscled arms. That was a valiant struggle in itself.

“Go ahead.” He dismissively waved a hand, and she glanced away to spare herself.

There were many things she wanted to say to him, but she decided to start small. “I was surprised to see you in Tokyo; I thought you said you’d never been here.”

“I hadn’t. I’ve never visited my baka deshi before.” The nickname first struck her as strangely condescending and distant, but now, she had grown used to it.

“Still, if I had known you would be here, that-” She stopped herself. Well, if she  _had_ known, what would she have done? Anticipate his arrival? Hide all of her expensive alcohol? “If you’re Kenshin’s adoptive father, why didn’t you show up for the wedding?”

“I missed the invitation, which I regret.”

“Because of the free sake?”

“That’s right.” He heaved a sigh, as if imagining the possibilities. Then, almost as an afterthought, he remarked. “Oh, and we would have met earlier, under more pleasant circumstances.”

“I’m not sure the circumstances would have changed.” She said. “Given the free sake.”

He laughed at that. “Even I know when to show some dignity.”

“That’s true. You’ve been very helpful here.”

“Thank you.” Now, he was smug.

She pursed her lips. “Nevertheless, I still wonder why you’re here.”

“To see you, of course.”

She turned her head, startled. “Excuse me?!” The line was something out of her novels and it would have been touching, if it weren’t for his frankness and stoic expression.

“To see your shocked face.” He clarified.

Her heartbeat was still at a thunderous pace, but she managed to evenly say. “I suppose I disappointed you.”

“Well, I was more amused on the day of the shrine visit. Your expression was worth gold.”

“You weren’t surprised at all.” She realized. “Kenshin and Kaoru didn’t tell you about me, did they?”

“Their tea set did. The blue glaze was from lapis lazuli I picked up.” He straightened his posture, clearly proud of his art.

“They must have thought it was a lucky coincidence.” But she still wasn’t convinced that her friends knew of their previous meeting, and Hiko-san confirmed it in a moment.

“I didn’t let them know it was my work, I was planning to disclose that later. No, they don’t know about our encounter in Kyoto.”

“I see.” She exhaled in relief, just as she heard the front door’s bell ring. It seemed their break was over, ending the conversation. She stood and smoothed her apron. “One last question. I promise I won’t bother you after that.”

“Fine.”

“What’s your real name? Hiko-san or Ni’itsu-san?”

He scoffed. “Call me whatever you like.”

That didn’t satisfy her at all. “Very well. I’ll stick with Hiko-san, since that’s what Kaoru and Yahiko-kun use.”

He shrugged, but she thought she saw his eyes darken a fraction.

* * *

“A dinner party?” Tae repeated. Hiko-san was out of earshot, for she had enlisted him to chop firewood outside.

Kaoru nodded. She had stopped by the market for groceries and passed the Akabeko on her way. Kenshin was home, she had said, waiting for Kenji to wake up from his nap. “Misao-chan and Aoshi-san are leaving tomorrow. I thought we’d give them a nice farewell. Can you and Tsubame come?”

It was a weekday, and business was slow. If she closed an hour earlier, no one would know the difference. “Yes, we’ll be there.”

“Then, see you tonight!”

The hours dragged on, and she was glad she made that choice. It wasn’t too late when the last straggler was carried away by his friends, and Tsubame locked the door.

The evening was chilly, and the pale yellow moon shone over the road. A few, shadowy strangers passed them by, but they reached their destination without anything eventful. Light poured from the windows of the Himura household, and Yahiko let them inside.

“Tae and Tsubame are here!” He hollered.

Kenshin was setting down bowls of miso soup, as Kaoru carried a steaming teapot. Misao-chan made a series of funny faces to the copper-haired baby in Aoshi-san’s arms. Yahiko had seated Tsubame beside him, and the only available spot was near Hiko-san. His eyes were closed, as if he were in some meditation, and she sat gingerly beside him. He didn’t move at all, not until everyone was at the table.

“It’s nice to have the dinner table so full.” Kaoru remarked, with a wide grin on her face. Kenji had fussed for her, so he had been moved to her lap and dozed off.

“It has been a while, since we could eat with this many of our friends.” Kenshin smiled, brushing his fingers against his son’s hand. “This one will serve the tea.”

Tae looked down at the cups and blinked in pleasant surprise. They were from the set she had bought…from the man sitting next to her. While she was flattered her gift was in use, the presence of its maker caused her to feel anxious.

“What a pretty tea set!” Misao-chan exclaimed. Tae’s senses immediately went on alert.

“Thank you. It’s my work.” Hiko-san interjected, and Kenshin nearly spilled his cup. He saved it at the last second, his surprised violet gaze on his master.

“Oro? It is?”

Kaoru’s eyebrows drew together. “But didn’t Tae buy it?”

“She did.” Hiko-san nonchalantly sipped from his cup. The conversation was moving far too fast for her, and she couldn’t get a word in yet.

“Oh, so you’ve met before already? Tae, you never told me that!”

“Did the two of you meet in Kyoto?” Kenshin carefully asked.

“Yes.” She answered and prayed they wouldn’t press. Or that Hiko-san wouldn’t-

“She threw sake in my face.”

 _Why would you say that?!_  She thought, horrified.

But Kaoru, like the good-natured girl she was, laughed. “Tae! You didn’t!”

“He was being very rude.” She defended. But, she wasn’t embarrassed, not as much as she feared she’d be. Perhaps, time and the increased interaction with Hiko-san had desensitized her feelings toward the encounter. While she still felt warm, her mortification wasn’t as strong. It was actually relieving, but if only he hadn’t been so blunt about it!

“Ah, then this one can understand.” Kenshin muttered, his gaze drifting to the side as he was lost in some memory.

“Although, he did apologize.”

“He did? What was it this time, Shishou?”

_You have a problem with a man celebrating a baby’s birth?_

Tae remembered his outburst, and the timing of it led to one conclusion. The reason for his excitement had been none other than Himura Kenji. But Hiko-san wasn’t speaking at all, pretending to be very interested on the floating tea leaves.

 _Aha! So he’s embarrassed, is he?_ Here was a way to turn the situation on him.

“I assume he received the news about Kenji, and overexcited himself.” Tae said, fighting a smile. His reaction didn’t disappoint; he had turned to glower at her, but she prided herself on not laughing.

“What?!” Kaoru beamed at her son, looking extremely pleased. “Kenji, you have quite the doting grandfather.”

“Don’t call me his grandfather.” His voice was curt, and a brief, awkward silence descended.

Aoshi-san broke the icy atmosphere. “The miso is good.”

Tae hurriedly tried the cloudy liquid and agreed. The conversation moved on, but to her, the sourness in the air lingered. Kaoru had looked a little crestfallen, although she recovered quickly, and Kenshin’s expression stayed neutral.

She glanced over at Hiko-san, wearing his coat like a shell. “You haven’t touched your miso.”

“So I haven’t.” He created a tiny eddy with his spoon. “If one craves bitterness, other flavors become inedible.”

“That might be true, but one shows strength by eating them anyway.”

He gave an undignified snort, before proceeding to swallow a mouthful of soup. From across the table, she noticed everyone else was staring in their direction. It was as if she had tamed a lion rather than this ill-tempered man.

“That was clever of you to say.” Hiko-san hadn’t realized the silent attention.

It hadn’t been improvised; she had learned it herself, a long time ago. However, she didn’t want to subject him to the bittersweet flavor of her past, so she only said. “It’s my rule for life.”

“Hmph. My baka deshi could stand to learn from you.”

A throat cleared. “This one is sitting over here.”

“I know.” He grinned, and the mood’s heaviness lifted.

As the others talked and the bowls of miso emptied, Tsubame tugged at her sleeve, whispering. “Tae-san, that was amazing.”

“It was nothing at all, I’ve dealt with worse.” She murmured.

Despite his touchiness, she couldn’t help but feel curious as well. It would have been an honor to be considered as family, like she had been for the shrine visit. It was also likely the issue would come up again later. Still, this was only the first course, and who knew what would happen next? The night stretched on ahead.


	10. Gyoza

Sekihara was eating her gyoza in small bites, and how anyone could have that much restraint was beyond him.

He stuffed another one in his mouth, ignoring how hot it was. The sauce could have used more chili oil, but at least the idiot had sense to use enough garlic.

…His apprentice certainly  _was_  a proper housewife.

The tanuki girl had her cheeks puffed out, blowing at a dumpling held between her chopsticks. The baby reached up for her sleeve, and she nearly lost her grip. His apprentice steadied her arm and used his own utensils to help her. She bit into the filling with a grin, and he gave a ridiculous smile.

The weasel girl clapped in approval and said something that might have been ‘good catch’, but her full mouth made it hard to tell. The spiky-haired boy agreed, blatantly trying to sneak more onto his plate. Next to him, the mouse girl had her attention torn between the lovey-dovey spectacle and the food. Even the tea boy was mainly focused on chewing.

Well, if Sekihara was holding herself back, it meant more extras for the rest of them. He was about to devour another, when a thought struck him.

Was she ill? That was a possibility, since even sake couldn’t be enjoyed properly in such a state. The taste buds were ruined when the body’s balance shifted. Grimy, sneezing, coughing patrons could have infected the restaurant’s air. Hell, the restaurant itself may have overworked her, with its unending slew of demands and tasks.

He glared at the dumpling, his appetite suddenly faltering. And  _why_  exactly did this concern him? He was only a visitor who’d be gone in a week and a half. Was it that he didn’t want to tell her goodbye, if she was pathetically sick? No, that was too selfish, even for him. He was still trying to work out an explanation, when he caught movement at the edge of his vision.

“Sorry, I can’t eat anymore.” He barely heard the mouse girl’s voice and managed to notice that two gyoza were slid onto Sekihara’s plate. “Please, Tae-san.”

“Ah, thank you. Are you sure, though? If you don’t change your mind now, they’ll be gone by the end of dinner.” She said, a note of playfulness in her voice.

Well, she wasn’t sick at all, only a passive eater. Irked at his own irrational worrying, he shoved the gyoza between his teeth. Still, he found his gaze drifting towards her and she did keep her promise.

Eventually, the chopsticks were laid down. The baby had fussed and been carried off by the tanuki girl. The weasel girl suggested they play a game of cards, and his apprentice began to stack the empty plates.

“Well, that was a decent meal.” His tone was grudging, although they both knew this was his version of a compliment. “Your cooking isn’t half bad.”

The idiot smiled. “Thank you, Shishou. But this one only followed the recipe Tae-dono gave last year.”

There was the broken-off sound of a stifled laugh, from somewhere around his arm. She had bested him even before dinner began, and it explained her lukewarm attitude towards the gyoza. However, he wasn’t one to surrender over this unexpected twist.

He turned his head to glance over her. “Is that so? Then, thank you for educating him, Sekihara.”

She was visibly taken aback, and he had to clutch his kneecap to stop himself from laughing. She should have known, that a dash of sweetness could improve a spicy dish.

He needed some fresh air to sober up, and he excused himself as the dishes were cleared. It was cold, and he buttoned his coat for the first time since last winter. To his dismay, the moon was hidden by a dark veil of clouds, as if ashamed of his growing idiocy.

* * *

He was sitting on the porch, when Sekihara approached him. She seated herself beside him, her hands clutching the wooden edge. “Do you mind if I join you, Hiko-san?”

“You’ve already decided that.” He said dismissively. “But, no.”

There was a brief silence. He could almost hear her contemplating how to start a conversation.

“You’re not still angry, are you? Over being referred to as a grandfather.”

Was she still thinking about that? As far as he was concerned, the conversation was in the past. That wasn’t the reason he had been irritated, but explaining everything would have opened up more questions. He avoided a direct answer, reciting a proverb. “New roots come in, to displace the old growth. That’s a fact of life.”

Sekihara only brushed it off. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If things were different, I could have been Kenji’s grandmother, and I’m thirty-two years old.”

“What?” He could only be surprised. Surprised at the implication with the tanuki girl’s father, and at the casual revelation of her age. The women he had known had deflected and acted coy, when he asked. Then again, Sekihara was very different. After all, she had her own business and was clever enough to match him for every word. And from what it sounded like, she had rejected at least one proposal.

She had been quiet, and it seemed she wasn’t about to divulge. At length, she pressed her lips together. “It’s a long story. Kaoru’s father once proposed to me, to give her a mother. It wasn’t out of love.”

“I see.” He mulled over this, feeling strangely satisfied for a moment. It didn’t last long, and he inquired. “Did you love him?”

“I thought well of him, but I knew that Kaoru’s mother would always be dear to him. And I had just opened the Akabeko; I couldn’t abandon it.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

She paused, tilting her head. “No, I don’t think so. Fondness isn’t the same as love. I wouldn’t have been unhappy with him, but not completely happy either. Still, when times were tough, I wondered if I should have accepted. But, I made my choice. I did mourn his death, but not as if I were his lover.”

From how long she thought about it, he assumed she had liked the tanuki girl’s father. Her feelings did seem to be more than if he were merely a friend. Nevertheless, she sounded honest about not considering him in a romantic way.

She fixed her direct gaze on him. “Anyway, that’s enough about me. What were we talking about earlier? Oh, that’s right. You compared yourself to old growth, but you don’t look like it.”

“I’m forty-five.” He felt no need to be evasive about it. The math had been easy enough, and the age difference didn’t bother him. It wasn’t too far off from the difference between his baka deshi and the tanuki girl, although the nature of the relationship wasn’t the same at all.

She blinked. “Really? I thought you were younger than that.”

“Oh?” He smirked. “So what was your guess?”

At this, she flushed scarlet and drummed her fingers on the porch edge. “Well, in Kyoto, I thought…thirty-five? But after hearing you cared for Kenshin, I wasn’t too sure.”

“Hmph. You  _were_  confused, when I walked in. Were you expecting a decrepit, old man?”

She laughed, and it was a short but cheerful sound. “No, but I believed you had a mustache.”

“The tanuki girl didn’t describe me well enough. Of all the things…” He shook his head, yet the corner of his mouth pulled upwards. “And a mustache for what reason?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, because you were his master?” She explained further, that facial hair had lately become a trend among high-ranking men.

“If that’s the case, I should grow one out. It could improve my reputation when I’m selling-” He stopped, noticing that she was silent again. She was studying him, imagining the possibility, and the intensity of her expression froze him. Then, she burst into laughter, and he scoffed. “Is it that funny?”

“It would have been…like a soba noodle.” She managed to say, before covering her face with her hands.

He couldn’t help but grin. “Who knows? It may look good on me, to show that kind of confidence.”

Her fingers parted over her eyes, as she retorted. “You have plenty already.”

There was a soft rap on the sliding door, and Sekihara asked who it was. The mouse girl peered out at them, rubbing one eye. “Um, Tae-san? Kenshin-san and Kaoru-san offered for us to stay here.”

“Well, that’s nice of them. It’s late and you look tired, so we’ll stay for the night. Go ahead, Tsubame, I’ll be there soon.” The door closed, and Sekihara stood. “It was a long day, so I’ll go inside.”

“If you need someone to guard your door, I’m at the end of the hallway.” He said dryly.

Another laugh left her. “Thank you, but we can take care of ourselves.”

“I’m the last person to argue with that.”

“Indeed. Good night, Hiko-san.” She smiled at him, her profile lit by the candles inside. It was a little different than the smile she had while working. It was warmer, and a terrifying, exhilarating feeling coursed through him. He had felt this, when they first met.

Oh,  _no_.

“Night.” He grunted and turned away. As soon as her footsteps receded, he rested his cheek on his propped fist and muttered. “Well, shit. It’s love.”

He had a flood of internal reactions to this, some of them lewd and many of them stupid. It didn’t matter anyway, he finally decided. There was no way she would leave her restaurant, and he couldn’t stay in Tokyo.

Even so, there was a sadly familiar hollowness within him. He tightened his coat around him and set out for the only appropriate cure he could think of: a bottle of good, aged liquor.


	11. Omake: Shogayu

Something was definitely strange, Kenshin thought as he draped a blanket over the clothesline. Shishou spent his time at the Akabeko, leaving after breakfast and returning late at night. If it weren’t for Yahiko letting him know, he would have assumed his master was lying drunk in a ditch.

“He’s been helping out, doing whatever Tae says.” Yahiko had scratched his head over this. “He’s not even getting paid!” He wasn’t paid in alcohol either, given that he didn’t reek of it when he eventually returned.

Kenshin sighed as he smoothed a shirt’s crease. While it was true that Shishou did whatever he liked, it wasn’t easy to motivate him. So, if it wasn’t money or sake, what was it? Tae-dono would know…or, was it Tae-dono herself that drew his master to the restaurant?

His haughty, antisocial master, suddenly interested in a woman? Had he glimpsed her from the window and been love-struck? The possibility was as strange as snow tomorrow, but not implausible.

His thoughts were interrupted by Yahiko, sprinting across the yard to head for the Akabeko. Aoshi and Misao had offered to babysit again; behind the wall, there were feet shuffling and stepping, indicating that they were preparing to go as well.

He lifted the empty laundry basket and decided that he would brew a pot of ginger tea. It would warm their bellies and counter illness. With Kenji in the house, it’d be disastrous if anyone fell sick. Just as he opened the sliding door, he was met with a bulky presence.

“I’m going out.” His master grunted and moved past him.

“Goodbye, Shishou.” He then added, almost offhandedly. “Have fun with courting.”

That resulted in a definite reaction. Shishou spun around, with an impressive glare. “Don’t mistake interest for love.”

He widened his eyes, keeping them round and innocent. “Oro, are you interested in Tae-dono?”

“I never said that, baka deshi.” With that, he was off.

Kenshin suppressed a grin. Who was the idiot now?

* * *

“He’s gone to see Tae?” Kaoru repeated, disbelieving. She blew at her ginger tea to cool the surface, before taking a sip. “Is that what he’s been doing?”

He swallowed his tea and nodded. “This one thinks so. He did react badly, when this one said it was courting.”

She set her cup down with shaking hands and couldn’t stop herself from giggling at how bold he was. “Kenshin, I can’t believe you said that!”

“But, it was proof.” He amiably replied, moving to sit next to her, and their shoulders touched. “Still, this one finds it strange.”

“It’s not so hard to believe. Tae has nice eyes, like a doe’s.” She mused aloud. “And she’s single. I think Otou-san was the only one who ever proposed to her.”

She didn’t learn about the proposal, until after her father had left. Tae had been uncharacteristically troubled, confessing that she had rejected the offer. She explained her reasons why and asked Kaoru not to think any less of her. As if she would, she’d answered and was actually relieved. It would have been awkward, because Tae had been her friend first.

“If he keeps going back, that could mean she doesn’t mind him being around. So, she might like him, right?”

“Hm, maybe…?” He seemed preoccupied, sliding his hand around her waist and kissing the space below her ear.

She laughed, a little breathlessly. “You’re not listening at all, are you?”

“This one is being very attentive.” He tried for a clueless expression. It was a contrast to his fingers working at the knot of her obi and diving under cloth.

Well, they could always continue the conversation later. She turned and gently moved him onto his back. “Not attentive enough.”

He smiled up at her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, a really long time.” Kaoru fairly purred. “But Kenshin, we have guests.”

“Then, we will have to be fast.” He breathed before capturing her mouth with his own.


	12. Hoshigaki

Despite herself, Tae glanced out the window again. Hiko-san had been out of sight, since they last spoke on the porch of the Kamiya dojo. That had been a week ago. Had she somehow offended him? She thought they had parted on good terms, although he was still asleep when she left with Tsubame in the morning.

_We actually had a decent conversation. I even told him about Koshijiro-san, and we had a nice laugh over his nonexistent mustache. Or was I the only one who enjoyed myself?_

She sighed in resignation and unlocked the door. Hiko-san had always arrived before opening, and this made it final that he wasn’t showing up today either. She couldn’t even be angry; after all, he had the right to make his own choices.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

* * *

As the number of customers for lunch dwindled, he walked through the door. Tsubame, who seated him, let her know in a confiding whisper. “He’s finally back, Tae-san.”

Yahiko cut in, rotating his sore shoulder and grumbling as he scrubbed a plate. “That’s great. He has to move those crates sitting in the back.”

Tae added chopped onions to a dish and set down her knife on the cutting board. “Before that, I’ll talk to him and find out what he’s been up to. Tsubame, watch the pots.” She parted the curtain and immediately saw him at a corner table. The dining area was nearly empty, and her footsteps seemed far too loud as she approached him.

He spoke before she could get a word in. “I’m here to get some peace of mind; I can only take care of the brat for so long.”

“So, Kenji’s the reason why you haven’t been here?”

To her surprise, he was honest. “That, and training. I’m not staying for much longer, but I can’t get rusty.”

“Then, can you help me one more time?” At his wary expression, she clarified further. “I need to pick up dried persimmons. My supplier didn’t show up today, and a dinner party requested them.”

“Fine.” His chair nearly fell over as he stood. “I’ll be outside, when you’re ready.”

No quips, no jabs. His subdued attitude reminded her of when he was trying to apologize, and yet, it didn’t soothe her.

* * *

The clouds overhead were ominously dark, when they left the Akabeko. He muttered something about waiting out the weather, but she told him. “If it rains, I don’t know when it will stop, and the dinner party will arrive tonight.”

Her supplier was a farmer who didn’t live too far away. However, it would be about twenty minutes to walk there and the way back would take even longer, if the hoshigaki had to be carried back. It was eerily quiet, as he followed her down the winding roads. She could practically feel his presence behind her, but she wasn’t sure what to say. Regardless, they had to hurry. There were only trees for company, which would be poor shelter, if lightning struck.

“We’re a little more than halfway.” Her voice sounded thin, and the silence soon came back to fill the space between them. At least, she tried.

Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “It’s raining now.”

“Huh?” To answer her, a raindrop landed on her nose. When she looked up, another splattered across her forehead. “Oh, dear. There’s a shrine at the end of the road, so let’s make a run for it.”

He nodded, grunting. “Yes, it’ll be worse soon.”

His prediction was right. In a matter of minutes, the drizzle became a downpour, and then a relentless torrent. She was already soaked when they stumbled into the wooden shrine, her hair already dripping water. Heavy cloth settled over her, and she blinked in surprise.

“The underside is dry.” Without his coat, she could see rain droplets running down his arms. The front of his shirt was plastered to his skin, and the wet fabric showed where his abdominal muscles began and ended. He pulled his hair away from his face. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

That wasn’t why she was staring, but she was glad for the excuse to turn away. “Thank you, Hiko-san.”

He gave a noncommittal hum. “Mm.”

The coat was surprisingly soft and smelled faintly of soap, the kind used by Kaoru and Kenshin. However, it was mostly hidden under pine and salt and an earthiness that might have been from Hiko-san’s pottery. The overall effect was strong but not cloying or pungent.

_It’s not unpleasant; actually, it’s a nice fragrance._

She quickly dried her face, neck, and hands. “The farmer’s house is about ten minutes from here.” She explained and detailed the directions, raising her voice over the downpour.

Tae spared a glance at him, making sure he was listening. His stern profile was still at first, but his eyes moved to her. “Is that all?”

“Yes, it is. And what’s so funny?”

He was fighting back laughter, gripping his forearms. “You’re small, Sekihara.”

“I’m average.” She corrected. “And anyone would look small in this coat.”

“It was actually too tight for my master.” At her incredulous expression, he added. “That was a joke.” However, he did look somber, and she realized that his past was a mystery to her. Not that she  _had_  to know, she hadn’t told him everything either. Still, it sparked her curiosity.

The sun suddenly lit the sky to the west, even though the rain hadn’t let up, and she couldn’t help but remark. “A foxes’ wedding.” Sun and rain at the same time meant the classic tricksters were celebrating.

“How nice for the foxes.” He drawled.

Eventually, the rain stopped entirely. The dark clouds had fled, as if they were urgently called elsewhere. It was as if the brief storm didn’t happen at all. “I’m sorry.” She murmured.

“For what?”

“If we left a half hour later, we wouldn’t have been caught in the rain.” She was expecting a clever retort, but it never came.

“…just don’t catch a cold.” That was all he said, before jerking his head towards her. “Keep the coat for now.”

“Then, I’ll try not to get it muddy.” She said dryly, lifting the edges. If she didn’t, the coat would puddle around her.

They stepped out of the shrine into moist air. A breeze chilled her face, and she grudgingly hiked up the coat. Then, her numb feet squelched and the discomfort made her stop. “Soaked completely through.” She said softly to herself. She would have to dry her socks by the fire tonight and find a new pair-

Her words were cut off in the next instant, because she was abruptly lifted off the ground and her shoulders fell back against a solid arm. Her vision blurred for a moment, until she focused on Hiko-san’s face looming over her. “What are you doing?!” She yelped.

“If your shoes are wet, I’ll carry you.”

She reddened; she hadn’t meant to imply anything. “It’s fine, Hiko-san, I can walk on my own. Let me down.”

“Hmph.” That smirk proved he wasn’t going to listen, and he started walking.

_He’s going to carry me all the way there?! And what if someone sees us, looking like we jumped into a river? The coat might be separating us, but it’s still indecent. No, we can’t have that._

She took a deep breath, before using the voice she reserved for the rowdiest customers. “Let me down right now!”

“Was that the best you could do?”

 _How infuriating!_  She pushed against his chest to retaliate. He felt like warm rock, and that irritated her even more. Her palm shoved his chin up, to divert his gaze away from her.

“Ouch.” There was no force behind the word. “Do you want me to drop you here?”

She glanced downwards. “You’d have to take responsibility if I broke any bones.”

“In that case, don’t break any of mine.” He twisted away from her hand and continued his pace.

“I won’t, if you’d stop this. I must be heavy.”

“You’re lighter than other things I’ve carried.”

“If that’s a compliment, it’s not very reassuring.”

He laughed at that, and the sound reverberated against her. “I can give better compliments than that, but if I said any of them, you’d try to push me away again. Or you’d laugh and my pride would be so wounded, I’d drop you. How would you get your hoshigaki then? So, I’m shutting my mouth.”

Her ears felt warm, but she ignored the heat. “Well, I appreciate your concern.”

He grinned at her. “It sounds like you missed me.”

“In fact, I did.” She did miss talking to him, as well as the liveliness and candor of their conversations. Then, was it that she liked being around him? That was the only conclusion she could think of, and it felt liberating in a way. Yes, it was nice to be with Hiko-san.

“Of course. I’m good company.” But it was clear she had rattled him, because he avoided looking at her directly. She held back a laugh at his embarrassment.

She would probably miss him, when he left Tokyo.

At last, they reached their destination. He set her down, and she hurriedly knocked on the door. Hiko-san openly laughed at the farmer’s horrified expression, at how drenched they were. After apologizing for the delay, the man invited them into his horse-drawn cart and headed for town. It wasn’t a smooth ride, but thankfully fast.

After the hoshigaki were brought inside, she offered some of the dried fruit to Hiko-san. “As an apology, for taking you along.”

“I don’t like sweets, remember?”

Ah, that was true. “I do remember. What do you want, then?”

He froze. “Nothing at all. I need my coat back.” She slipped it off, and he took it from her. He roughly shoved his arms through the sleeves and gruffly said. “I’ll see you around. Don’t catch a cold.”

“You already said that. Goodbye.” Nevertheless, she smiled. With that, he left and she entered the Akabeko to change. When she knelt to remove her socks, she inhaled and noticed something.

The scent of his coat had rubbed off on her.

* * *

By the way, animaniacal drew great fanart of this chapter right [here](http://animaniacal.tumblr.com/post/147296221122/rurouni-kenshin-week-2016-day-3-shipping-or), so check it out!

 


	13. Kurigohan

_What do you want, then?_

_Since it was so much trouble, a kiss would be enough._

He gritted his teeth. What an idiotic thought. He certainly felt like an idiot, when she told him that she had missed him. He had to look away from her, suddenly nervous at her strange honesty and afraid at how much it pleased him. This was ridiculous. The point of staying away from her was to nip his feelings in the bud, and now, not even the autumn wind could cool off the lingering excitement.

He scowled and increased his pace. The discomfort wasn’t just emotional either; the underside of his coat was damp, from being pressed against her wet skin.

Shit, that was something he  _really_  didn’t need to recall.

His apprentice must have waited out the rain, because he looked dry upon opening the gate. “Oro? What happened, Shishou?”

“The rain happened.” He retorted and trudged past him.

“Then, the bathhouse is open, if you want-”

“I’ll go to the public baths, as I always have. As a matter of fact, I like it there, since I can soak in a  _clean_  place where newlyweds haven’t had sex.” The idiot confirmed it too, falling backwards with a crimson face. It was as if he had been struck, and Hiko stifled a laugh.

For the moment, his mood was lifted. At least, a little.

* * *

Of course, it didn’t last for long. His last dinner with his apprentice and the tanuki girl would have been tolerable, if the brat wasn’t happily smacking his cheek.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He tried to lower his arms and set Kenji down, but a sharp sound of complaint from the brat stopped him. Grudgingly, he had to allow the smacking to continue. At first, it had been funny, since the brat was cooing and laughing. Now, he was just being stubborn and repeating that one motion with disturbing intensity.

In the future, he swore to himself, he would kidnap the brat and give him some much needed discipline. The brat certainly wouldn’t get it from his parents.

“Hiko-san, he likes it when we do this.” The tanuki girl demonstrated, by imitating a puffer fish. “If you don’t, he’ll keep hitting you.”

“I’d rather have that than make a fool of myself.” Of all things, he would not lose to a baby.

His apprentice answered. “Then, you will have to wait until Kenji tires out.”

Fortunately, the brat soon gave up and began to cry, not stopping until the tanuki girl took him back and did the puffer-fish face. He immediately calmed down, as the tanuki girl bounced him on her lap and wiped away his tears. “All you wanted to do was play, right?”

He scoffed. “If that was his idea of play, I’m glad I’m leaving, before he starts teething. I’ll have some peace and quiet at home.”

“Don’t you feel lonely, living by yourself?” The tanuki girl asked softly, and then her expression lit up. “You’re welcome to stay with us longer! Your pottery could do well in Tokyo, and you could even have your own shop.”

“And deal with people on a regular basis?” He shuddered at the thought. Furthermore, his apprentice looked stricken at the possibility of living with him again.

“Indeed, Shishou has never wanted to move, not even to Kyoto.”

“That’s right. City life doesn’t suit me.”

“I see.” The tanuki girl sighed but offered a smile. “But if you ever come back, there’s always room here. Even in town, there are plenty of inns. There’s a good one that’s not too far from the Akabeko.”

Then, his idiot apprentice added. “Also, if it happens to be full, you could stay with Tae-dono.”

He almost knocked over his tea and steadied the cup before replying. “As if I’d bother her. And what the hell was that?” He glared at the couple, who had exchanged wide grins.

“What?” The idiot blinked.

“The two of you looked at each other just now, like you’re sharing some secret.”

“We have no idea what you’re talking about.” The tanuki girl laughed, and the baby nuzzled her shoulder, as if showing off that he was finally getting his own way.

Damn it, everyone in this house was too smug.

“That’s it, I’m leaving right now.” He stood and pointedly eyed the door.

“Hey, wait!” They had to coax for two minutes before he sat down again. Did he enjoy it? Yes, he did. Did he forget about their shared expressions when Sekihara was mentioned? Not even for a second.

* * *

He left when the sky was turning azure with early morning, before even the moon faded out.

“Wave bye-bye, Kenji.” The tanuki girl lifted her son’s hand, but he was about to nod off in her arms. “Need more sleep, huh? Hiko-san, we really enjoyed having you with us, and we’d love it if you visit more often.”

“Thank you for your hospitality. However, unless there’s another shrine visit, I won’t be back.”

The idiot smiled. “So, that should be by next year.”

“Geez, Kenshin!” The tanuki girl yelped and lightly shoved him. “Then  _you_  can be the one giving birth, because I’m still recovering!”

“Well…”

Hiko interjected. “Either way, I’m not sticking around to wait for that. Goodbye.”

They responded in kind, waving him off. He passed the gate and didn’t look back as he made his last detour.

The market was just opening, and his attention drew to a nearby flower seller. More specifically, his attention was drawn to one pot, overflowing with a browning vine. It would have passed for a weed, if it weren’t for the few surviving blossoms it bore. While he disagreed with the color of the bright pink petals, an idea came to him. He approached the seller and haggled down the price; when the stall was out of sight, he tore off the pink flowers and tied them off with a section of vine.

The bundle wasn’t perfect and it was on the small side, but it looked presentable. Morning glories were one of the seven autumn flowers, and as he walked, he began crafting a way to intertwine its significance with his farewell.

The Akabeko wasn’t open yet, but the mouse girl let him into the restaurant, her eyes wide. “Tae-san went to get groceries, but she’ll be back soon. Is that for her?”

“No, it’s for the other owner of this place.” He sarcastically told her, before heading into the kitchen. Sekihara was true to her routine, and he was glad for it as he placed the morning glories in the pocket of her apron. If he had given them to her directly, it would have looked like courting, and that wasn’t the purpose. The flowers were only a parting gift, since it felt inappropriate to leave without something for her.

He stepped out, and the mouse girl timidly asked. “Are you going to be with us today?”

“No, I’m going home.”

“Oh. Have a good trip?” Her courtesy sounded more like a question.

“Thanks.”

There was an awkward silence, fortunately broken by the spiky-haired boy’s arrival. “Tae’s coming in through the back. Tsubame and I will help her out, so you can wait here.” The last was addressed to Hiko himself, and he didn’t have to wait long, before he heard Sekihara’s muffled voice. A brief pause followed, before the curtain moved and she was standing in front of him.

He had an eloquent speech ready, but his tongue felt like stone as soon as he saw her, holding the bundle of morning glories and her eyes full of soft astonishment. Her expression was asking ‘for me?’, and it set even more weight on him.

She fingered the edge of a pink petal, her mouth lifting in a smile. “These are pretty flowers. What’s the occasion?”

Right. The occasion. What was he going to say again? Something along the lines of… “I’m leaving.”

…damn it.

She was taken aback for a moment but quickly collected herself. “I see. Then, travel safely.” She briefly bowed at the waist. “I suppose this is goodbye.”

“Yes, this time is goodbye. But if I happen to visit Tokyo again, I’ll stop by. I can sweep you off your feet again.”

She flushed scarlet at the reminder, and it was charming. “I should hope not. Ah, hold on, I have something for you. You can take it with you for the road.” She disappeared behind the curtain and returned with a small box. “It’s kurigohan, since you don’t like sweets.”

He opened the lid a fraction and caught a glimpse of white rice, black sesame seeds, and boiled chestnuts.

“Don’t morning glories have a meaning?” She had emptied a vase and carefully arranged the pink bundle in it.

Some of his lost speech surfaced in his mind, and he said. “They symbolize promises. I’ve given them to you, to swear that we’ll cross paths again. Maybe that won’t happen in a month or a year, but even after those flowers lose their color and wither, I hope we can keep that promise.”

He had wanted to see her blush again, but he didn’t expect her to laugh. “It should be that I promise not to lose my temper again.”

He grinned. “That too.”

“Still, it may not even be here, but in Kyoto. I plan to visit, when my sister’s child is born. Will you be there in the spring?”

“I don’t like making guarantees, but I can stop by the Shirobeko when I’m in the city. Don’t feel like you have to linger around, if I never show up.” He warned her.

Her smile was bittersweet. “You don’t have to worry about me, but that means this isn’t goodbye after all. If fate allows it, we’ll meet again in spring.”

He gave a deep bow. “If fate exists. So long, Sekihara.” He didn’t really hear her response, or perhaps, he didn’t want to. He had been told goodbye so many times, and to hear it from her of all people would be painful.

When he left Tokyo, it felt like a piece of his heart had snapped away. He had left it behind, with the morning glories.


	14. Yakitori

“Tsubame, here’s the tea.” Tae poured a cup and handed it to the girl. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was a whisper, made scratchy by her sore throat.

Tae smoothed the blanket’s edges. “I’m going to get lunch, but I’ll be back in no time, to make soup for you. Get some rest, so you can recover. Do you need anything else?”

Tsubame shook her head and sipped her tea.

“Alright then. I’ll see you soon.” She left Tsubame’s room and headed out. The chill of late autumn rustled dead leaves and made her wince, but otherwise, it was a quiet day.

It had been a week since Hiko-san departed. She watered the morning glories before the Akabeko opened, and that new element to her routine was a little soothing. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had arrived home safely.

“Hey there, Sekihara-san!” She turned at the mention of her name and smiled. The speaker was Morimoto-san, a middle-aged man who sold yakitori. He inclined his head in greeting.

“Ah, good afternoon!” She bowed. “How are you?”

It was comfortable to talk with Morimoto-san, since like her, he was from the Kansai region. “Doing well. The wife’s busy with the kids though, since they all came down with colds. It started with the youngest, and then it spread to the rest of them. It’s that time of the year, I tell you.”

“Mm, Tsubame-chan’s also sick.”

“Is that so? Hope she gets better soon. Meanwhile, we have to stay healthy. Did you have lunch yet?”

“No, I do get tired of my own cooking after a while.” She admitted.

“In that case, I’d be happy to give you two skewers. Extra sauce too!”

She laughed. “If you say it like that, then I don’t have a choice.”

As he started grilling, he changed the subject. “By the way, the wife and I saw your suitor.”

“My what?”

“Aw, don’t be shy! That tall man with the coat.”

“Oh, it’s not like that at all. He was only visiting, and he’s already left.”

“Not before giving you flowers. That’s what I heard from Utsumi-san. He was up one morning when that man bought an almost dead vine. Morning glories, right?”

She sighed and threw her hands up. “I’m surprised at how fast news travels.”

“Well, it’s interesting news, especially when it concerns Sekihara-san and a strange man. The wife and I are looking forward to you settling down.”

“I know.” She tried not to let her emotions bleed through, but she must have failed because Morimoto-san hurried to clarify.

“Oh, it’s not like that. I’m sorry, if I reminded you. We just want you to be happy.”

“I  _am_  happy, Morimoto-san. Even if I never marry, the Akabeko is like my child.” She cared for Tsubame just as much. When she was better, she was going to address the matter of adopting her. Tsubame had stayed the longest of her workers, and she could be trusted with the Akabeko when she was older. Nevertheless, she had no intention of publicizing that, not even to Morimoto-san. Secrecy was the best protection, from anyone who wanted to seize her restaurant. That hadn’t happened in months, but she was sure there were men still out there, lurking and waiting for her to give up.

As if she would.

“That’s true enough.” He conceded, startling her out of her thoughts. “The Akabeko’s about as demanding as a child too; I know my stall is! Here’s your order!”

She took the two skewers, and the smell of the sauce made her mouth water. “Thank you. If your children need soup, let me know. I can always make some for them.”

“Indeed. Have a good day!”

“You too!”

Tsubame was asleep when she returned, and she didn’t make a sound as she sat at the table. It was lonely, eating by herself, and she opened a novel to distract herself from the unsettling silence. It was a romance, but it wasn’t very well-written and her mind began to wander.

_It’s terribly dull, without talking to someone. Then again, it isn’t any different than when I first arrived in Tokyo. Perhaps, I’ve been spoiled by the good company I’ve had lately, but it was enjoyable. The shrine visit, the dinner with Kenshin and Kaoru, even getting caught in the rain with Hiko-san. Still, it’s over now, so I’ll have to keep my chin up and focus on my work. Next year may even be here before I know it._

The lunch hour was soon over, and the bell rang to signal the arrival of customers. It seemed the time for herself was over. After wiping her mouth, she opened the curtain and smiled. “Welcome!”


	15. Matsutake

Dusk painted the sky orange when he stepped onto familiar ground. Hiko breathed in deeply, letting the smell of pine clear his lungs. It was almost comforting, and he rolled his shoulders, satisfied. He crossed the threshold and the door creaked to compete with his low murmur. “I’m home.”

Of course, the only answer was the silence of his house. He ran his fingers over a nearby shelf, his mouth quirking downwards at the layer of dust. Then, he headed for his stash of liquor, pushing aside nearly empty bottles of soy sauce and rice vinegar.

Along the way, he had stopped for dinner, but the fish had been too bland and the overcooked rice left a starchy taste in his mouth. The sake was of terrible quality as well, so he needed his own to forget it even passed his lips.

He sat on the front steps, downing the first cup. It was good, but it would be better if there was something else to accompany the pleasant burn.

Like pine mushrooms.

He eyed the surrounding forest, mulling over the decision. There was no guarantee he’d find them, and maybe he would have to settle for anything other than the so-called ‘king of mushrooms’. Then again, he was home and deserved a bit of luxury.

He exchanged his sake jug for a fraying basket, grabbed his sheathed katana, and headed out to search. Years ago, he had come across a patch of matsutake, but the mushrooms weren’t consistent in their appearance. Nevertheless, it looked like it had rained while he was gone, so his chances were better than luck alone.

He kept a hand on his katana’s hilt as he walked. Just as his chances for mushrooms were good, his chances for encountering a wild boar or some other creature were about as equal. He didn’t look forward to that prospect; he wasn’t in the mood for any unexpected encounters.

It was quiet, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, his shadow stretched longer. The air felt humid, as if it would rain again soon. However, it wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable as the last time rain fell…

A flare of presence caught his attention, and he stopped. He soon found the source, a doe staring at him with black eyes. A fawn tiptoed around her, but the deer remained still, as if sizing him up as a potential threat to her baby.

He snorted. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for you.”

Obviously, he wasn’t convincing, because the animal sprinted away with her fawn at her side. The sound of its footsteps diminished before he moved on to his destination. As it turned out, his chances really had been good. Evergreen needles adorned the matsutake, and he crammed a handful of the mushrooms into the basket.

The way back was uneventful, except for the stars beginning to show over the trees. After starting a small fire, he alternated between watching the flames and sliding the mushrooms on skewers. A few minutes later, they were seared and steaming; as they cooled, he poured the remnants of soy sauce and rice vinegar into a dish.

He slid a mushroom off its skewer and dipped it in the sauce before chewing it. The spiciness was complemented by salt, sourness, and smoke. Delicious. It was a shame there wasn’t anyone else to appreciate his hard work.

Immediately, Sekihara’s face came to mind. She cooked for a living, and if she had known of his skills, she might have tied him to the Akabeko’s kitchen. Then, she would inevitably be won over, and how could he possibly leave? No, he would have stayed, and nothing good would have come out of that.

On second thought, it was probably better that he was alone. And damn his delusions born of love. He refilled his sake cup to clear his head. As the taste faded from his tongue, he remembered something he considered while traveling.

His baka deshi and the tanuki girl deserved a gift out of appreciation. However, the brat would start crawling in no time, and a masterpiece could easily be destroyed in that household. Still, a creation of his would be more personal, and it could earn him a summer with the brat in the future. In that case, a child-size bowl or two would be boring but practical. He could sculpt something for Sekihara too, like a better vase for the morning glories. A dark red piece would stand out in her restaurant.

He thought over all of this so intensely, he could practically feel the dense clay in his palm, which twitched in anticipation. After he swallowed the last mushroom, he entered the workshop and closed the door behind him.


	16. Udon

“What a good-looking family!” Tae called out with a smile. The Kamiya dojo and its yard were covered in a thick layer of snow. Kenshin shoveled the walkway, his crimson hair over his shoulder. Kaoru carried a red-cheeked Kenji in her arms, her blue eyes lighting up.

“Tae, it’s been a while! We haven’t seen you in…a month?”

“That sounds about right. It’s the season for sukiyaki, so I’ve been held up. How have you all been? Anything new?” She asked, striding past the gate.

“Well, Kenji can sit on his own, and he’s been rolling around. He doesn’t cry as much at night, so we finally have some sleep.” Kaoru sighed and offered. “Do you want to hold him?”

“Yes, of course. He’s gotten heavier, that’s good.” Tae noted as the baby was transferred to her. He looked at her, then back to Kaoru, before his eyebrows drew together and he reached for his mother.

“He’s gotten shy.” She corrected, and Tae obliged to Kenji’s protest by returning him. Kaoru bounced him on her hip and continued. “But that’s probably because he hasn’t seen anyone, other than me, Kenshin, and Yahiko. He had a fever not too long ago.”

“We were worried, but it was only a cold.” Kenshin spoke up.

“Hmph, ‘worried’ is understating it. He was so scared, fussing over Kenji every hour until the doctor came over.” Kaoru confided.

“Oro, but wasn’t it Kaoru-dono who wrapped Kenji in this one’s gi to keep him warm?”

Tae laughed. “Then it’s no wonder he’s better now, with such loving parents.” The baby was perfectly oblivious, glaring around at the snow when he sneezed.

“I should take him inside.” Kaoru said. “Do you want to come in, Tae?”

“No, I shouldn’t stay too long; I have to be back in ten minutes.”

“But you’ll be here for New Year’s, right?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. I can’t cook after all.” For the first three days of the New Year, it was traditional to avoid the stove. She usually prepared food beforehand, but she made a mental note to make and bring extra for her friends.

“See you soon then!” She beamed and lifted Kenji’s hand to wave, before entering the house. The front step had been swept and the walkway was completely free of snow, even to the gate.

Tae turned to Kenshin. “You’ve cleared all of this in just one day?”

“Kaoru-dono and this one have been switching off. For now, this one is only widening the path.” He stopped, giving a sheepish smile. “If Shishou was here, it would go faster.”

“Well, I wonder if it snowed where he is.”

“Oro, have you heard from him?”

“No, not a word. I’ve only heard from my sister.”

“We have his mailing address. Do you want to send him a letter?”

She tried to keep her voice neutral. “Would he answer?”

“That would be up to Shishou, but if it’s you, this one thinks he wouldn’t ignore it.”

In the end, she left with a slip of paper, and even though she tried, she couldn’t quite keep a smile off her face.

* * *

However, the letter had to be put off, since she prioritized the matter of the Akabeko’s future. Tsubame had protested at first, but she was easy to convince.

“You’re responsible, and I trust you. In fact, I might even expand. When you’re older, you can handle this one while I open another location. Oh, don’t look like that, that won’t be for years!” She added, at Tsubame’s wide eyes. “The point is, I can’t think of anyone better to inherit the Akabeko.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, before shakily bowing in gratitude.

“There’s no need to thank me, you’ve helped so much. You’re a good girl, Tsubame.” Tae affectionately patted her head. “Now, let’s go to the shrine!”

The crowds were expectedly dense, but it was still a struggle to maneuver through. Still, they managed to offer their prayers and detour to buy fortunes. Tsubame smiled at hers, which was ‘middle luck’. Tae opened her own and immediately sighed.

“Oh, dear.” Hers was ‘bad luck’.

“Tae-san…”

“Well, nothing could be worse than having the restaurant destroyed again. And I refuse to let that happen.” She said, before tying the ominous paper to the highest branch she could reach.

The following day, they arrived at the Himura household, and the atmosphere was raucous, given Kaoru’s students.

“I assume you’ve given out a lot of New Year’s money?” Tae eyed the hosts as she set down her container of stewed black soybeans.

“We can be generous this year, since their parents gave some for Kenji.” Kaoru replied, wiping the baby’s mouth with a napkin. “It’s his first New Year, but we were still kind of shocked.”

“We’ve put the red envelopes away, so he won’t rip them.” Kenshin seemed to answer her question before she could voice it.

“Speaking of envelopes, have you written to Hiko-san yet?” Kaoru interjected.

“I sent one this morning.” Her letter had been short, only inquiring how he was and the details of their spring meeting. She had suggested that she’d find him in front of the Shirobeko, during the two weeks she was most likely to be there.

Meanwhile, Kenji had rolled into his father’s lap, and Kenshin smiled as he said. “Then, we hope he reads it in time.”

“I hope he isn’t carried away with the festivities and giving another restaurant trouble.” But she laughed as she said it. After that, the games and food provided pleasant distraction.

The rest of winter passed quietly but quickly. And of course, with plenty of udon. A simple meal of noodles in hot broth warmed her from head to toe, without overwhelming the palate. Furthermore, the cold sapped the energy she could spare for herself, and udon was easy to cook.

In fact, she was finishing a bowl of the thick noodles, when she received a package. It was a red vase, clearly a work of ‘Ni’itsu-san’. However, the note inside was signed by Hiko-san.

_That’s fine with me._

She flipped the note over.  _Is that really it? He’s blunt to the core, but he can be eloquent, given the occasion. Still, he took the time to make this vase, and that’s sweet of him._

It was only natural to place it where the morning glories once resided. Those flowers had endured the remainder of autumn, before withering with the first cold snap of winter. It saddened her at first, but she reminded herself that soon enough, there would be snowdrops and cherry blossoms. They would look picturesque in the vase, and even without, the pottery made for a lovely feature.

 _He might get a swelled head when he visits the Akabeko again. Or rather,_ if  _he visits._ She corrected herself and decided that she had to write a response to him as well as Sae.

Her sister’s letters had tapered off, although the rest of the staff kept her updated. They were all excited, they said, but the letters always conveyed an undercurrent of nervousness.

* * *

At the close of February, her anxious wait came to an end, with a brief telegram from Toru.

_Healthy baby boy. Sae is doing well. Come visit us soon._

She started packing within the hour.


	17. Yudofu

Over the winter, he did nothing but work. His clients had certainly missed him, more than he would have liked. There were far too many letters, denoting endless requests to sculpt a vase, a set of bowls, crockery, and on and on. Pottery did limit dealing with people, but apparently, his growing fame counteracted that. It was enough to make him grumble about retirement, albeit without seriousness.

The only welcome letters were from Sekihara and the joint household of his baka deshi and the tanuki girl. The latter was easier to write to, since they appreciated the bowls. The brat was going to be eating off them soon, and that pleased him, almost as much as the parents’ gratitude.

As for the former, he had delayed a response, trying to figure out the best reaction he could get from her. The ideal would have been somewhat flustered, but flattered overall. But what would be the point, if he couldn’t see her face anyway? In the end, he decided that less was more and sent his reply along with the vase.

The New Year had been spent like any other, with a stop in Kyoto to buy food and sake. The crowds were irritating as always, but at least, they provided some cover. Or so he thought, until a young man approached him. He had enough cheekbone and jawline to be popular among the girls, but there was something in his voice Hiko didn’t like. ‘High-handed’ was probably the best description.

“You’re the potter, Ni’itsu-san.” The statement was full of confidence, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, and?”

“I sent you a request for a sake bottle and two cups, along with my suggestions for the appearance. Of course, I still leave everything to your artistic vision. Did you receive it? I’m Ueda Giichi.”

Even with the name, he wouldn’t have remembered. However, the request itself was familiar, given the unforgettable tone. No wonder he was the sender. “I’m working on it.” Or rather, he would, once he was home.

“Good, I was concerned it wouldn’t be ready before the deadline. It’s an engagement gift, by the way.”

“Congratulations.” He said sardonically. “Am I invited to the wedding?”

“Only if it’s as perfect as my bride. The greatest beauty in ten years is fit to be my wife, so the finest pieces would be most fitting.” He had a haughty sort of laugh, like a crow’s. “So, do your best, Ni’itsu-san. Otherwise, I’ll commission someone else!”

“You would definitely regret that.” He then joined with his own laugh, loud enough to overwhelm the other’s. He had enough time to see arrogance flash across that crow boy’s face, before striding off.

Unsurprisingly, his mood was sour when he left Kyoto.

* * *

He ignored the ‘suggestions’ in the letter, opting for a subdued green glaze. The three pieces weren’t finished until the end of January; that damned crow boy had better think the set was ‘perfect’. And if he didn’t, what if the girl did? Given his personality, it was probable that she would like the cask more than she liked the crow boy. For that matter, why the hell did he care? Either he was just too kind of a person or it was his own love clouding his usual apathy, he grudgingly concluded.

The crow boy had given him the address, for delivery purposes. The girl’s family lived in a village near Kyoto; her father was a landlord. It was easy to lug a wagon there and sell his ceramics. It was even easier to spread his potter’s name amongst the people. Before the day ended, he was invited to the landlord’s house for dinner.

He was not a rich man, this Takahashi Nobuo. That wasn’t necessarily a problem, although it was clear they were trying to save money for the impending dowry. The table was set plainly, and the landlord’s clothes were clean but clearly worn. His wife, Mito, was gracious enough, in stark contrast to the silent young woman beside her.

“This is our daughter, Hatsu.” Nobuo announced.

Unconsciously, Hiko flinched but didn’t let it show. That name…sounded close to another, and he couldn’t help but react. His memories were rattled, as if someone had blown the dust off them. While he forced them down, his body moved on its own to glance at the other half of the engaged couple.

The girl had a presence that was self-effacing; she could have been mistaken for a servant. Her short hair brushed against her chin, and her eyes were fixated downwards. There was a sullenness to her delicate features, too apparent even in one glance.

The meal was simple winter fare, warm sake and yudofu. Hiko sipped the liquor and didn’t touch it again. Whoever bought the sake obviously didn’t have a sense of taste. Grimacing, he turned his attention to the bowl in front of him, in which tofu cubes and vegetables floated in hot water. The soup was passable, although the broth from the Akabeko was considerably better.

The landlord seemed decent but he was too talkative. After the usual introductions were finished, most of the conversation dealt with farming and weather; Hiko didn’t bother to listen closely, until the engagement was brought up.

“Hatsu will be married soon. Her intended, Ueda-kun, told us that you’re making one of her engagement gifts.”

“Not the greatest at keeping secrets, is he? Then again, I don’t fault him for wanting to share.” He replied. “As for the gift, it’s finished.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mito spoke up. “We’ll be meeting with Ueda-kun’s family in a month to finalize everything. We’re thinking of a wedding next winter.”

“Is that so? Congratulations on your future happiness.” He automatically said, turning to the girl.

“Thank you.” Her voice was clipped, and she bowed her head. The stiff gesture practically screamed unhappiness, but her parents were oblivious.

After dinner was over, they offered to pay for a room at the local inn. He declined, citing a need to return to the road. Part of it was unwillingness to stay any longer than he had to, although he also wanted space, to drink the lingering remnants in his sake jug. Nobuo quickly obliged, and he and Mito bid lengthy farewells. Their daughter was nowhere to be seen, but that puzzle was solved when he stepped out.

Hatsu was standing on the back steps, looking small in her thick robes. She bowed and murmured goodbye, which he returned.

“I met him in person over the New Year. He obviously looks forward to the wedding.”

“Ah.” She shrank, looking as if he had mentioned a grotesque creature, instead of her future husband.

“I suppose you’re excited, about starting this new phase of your life.” He set it up as bait, but blinked when she glowered and her fists clenched.

“I don’t want to marry.” She blurted, before running past him to escape into the house.

Well, this was worse than he thought. Here he was, caught in the middle of an unwanted marriage. The girl had no interest, and the crow boy seemed to think of her as a prize instead of a life partner. Scowling as he departed, he uncorked his jug of sake and thought of what information he could dig up.


	18. Monaka

Toru was about to open the door when he paused. “Have you washed your hands, Tae?”

She humored him. “Yes, I have. I haven’t touched anything since you asked me the last time.”

“Come on, just let her see her nephew!” Hotaka called out. The rest of the staff had crowded around her, at the end of the hall.

“I’m only making sure.” He replied.

Tae didn’t fault him, of course. Over the years, her sister had trouble conceiving. She had already lost two children, one a miscarriage and the other a stillborn girl. They had all grieved, but Tae felt utterly helpless, as her twin and brother-in-law suffered in silence. It was no wonder that Toru worried about the baby more than anyone else, except for Sae.

Sae was seated in a chair, resting her eyes but stirring when they entered the bedroom. However, Tae’s attention immediately drew to the little bundle in her arms.

“Tae, you made it.” Her sister’s smile was comforting.

“I took the first train this morning.” It had been two weeks since she had received that telegram. The weather was considerably warmer, and she had seen the first cherry blossoms in Tokyo before closing the Akabeko for the next few days. “Are you alright, Sae?”

“Still recovering, but I feel good. I’m happy because the baby’s healthy. Here, you can hold him.”

As the baby was passed over, he snuffled at the movement. His face was red and puckered, and his eyes opened a fraction to look at her before shutting again. It would be some time, before they learned who he took after. Tae adjusted the blanket around his feet, marveling at how small and warm they were.

“His name’s Makoto.” Toru told her.

“Yoshida Makoto.” She tried his full name and beamed. “He’ll grow up to be sincere, I hope.”

Sae replied. “He’s a very well-behaved baby, and we’re so thankful. But, how are you, Tae? I’m sorry I couldn’t write back; I was so sick near the end.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re fine. The Akabeko’s been doing well, that’s all.” She talked about willing it to Tsubame in the future, which they approved. She had thought about mentioning Hiko-san, but reconsidered it.

_He did come here to make amends, but the first impression is probably what stuck for everyone else. They probably remember him as ‘the man I threw sake at’. Of course, things are different now, but I’ll need plenty of time to explain all of that._

Makoto was fussing as well, his arms flailing against her. He wanted to nurse, so Tae took it as her cue to leave the room. Before she did, she glimpsed Toru wrapping his arms around Sae’s shoulders, as she held their baby. The sight of them and their unspoken joy made her smile.

* * *

While she ate lunch with the staff, they asked about her travel and how she thought of her new nephew.

“The journey was smooth.” She told them. “As for Makoto, he’s nothing short of adorable. I’ll try to visit again before the year ends.”

“You’ll definitely be back sooner than you think.” Masa said, nudging Hotaka’s shoulder. The meaning of the gesture didn’t escape Tae.

“You’re getting married?” She had been rooting for them since Obon two years ago, when they teamed up in the kitchen to cook every dish by themselves. If only she had stayed in Kyoto to see the development!

“That’s right, her parents agreed and everything.” He grinned. “We’re planning for a wedding next year.”

“Next year.” She repeated, smiling now. “Why not sooner?”

“Yeah, so you can give Sae’s baby a playmate!” Yasu crudely shouted and Hotaka lunged for him across the table, her face red.

“Y-you…! If you care that much, why don’t  _you_  get married?!”

“Alright, now.” Aki reached over to offer a calming touch, while Masa held back his fiancé. “To celebrate your engagement and Tae-san’s return, I made monaka. Let’s have them now, since the tea’s ready.”

“I’ll help you.” Tae said and followed her into the back. “Are your girls doing well?” After her husband died in Satsuma, Aki sent her daughters to the countryside. She thought it would be better for them to live with her parents, while she visited every month with her salary. Sae and Toru had tried to talk her out of it, suggesting that the girls could stay in the Shirobeko during the day, but she refused to live on their charity. Tae wouldn’t have done the same, but she respected the waitress enough to ask.

“They’re getting big. Hisa can count to fifty, and Fumi’s almost old enough to work here. You’d be surprised at how much they’ve grown.”

“I still remember them when they were this high.” Tae lowered her palm below her hip. “I suppose you’re looking forward to living with them again, when they come back.”

Aki sighed. “It’ll be hard work for them.”

It was something she knew all too well, but Tae could only tell her. “We’ll help however we can.”

When they returned, Hotaka served everyone. The tea was fragrant, and the sweets were cut in triangles, the jam bursting between lightly browned wafers.

“We’ll let you know when the ceremony will be.” Hotaka addressed her.

“I’ll definitely attend. I thought the two of you made a good pair.”

She nervously laughed at that, but her next question startled Tae. “Well, what about you? Sae-san and Toru-san have been together for so long, haven’t you ever thought of marriage?”

_That again, huh? But I guess no one told her, so she wouldn’t have known. Not many people do._

She stared into her teacup. “…I have the Akabeko.”

“Oh, of course!” Luckily, the younger girl read the conversation and quickly changed the subject to her siblings’ antics.

As she talked, Tae bit into the crisp monaka, and the flavor of red beans filled her mouth. It was sweet, with a slightly bitter aftertaste.


	19. Gyokuro

It was weak-looking tea. The crow boy had said it was a new kind of green tea, but the liquid in the cups was pale and golden. Hiko tried a sip from his; it was slightly sweet, but the savory taste was high-grade.

So, it was expensive tea and the crow boy knew it. His face was smug as he watched everyone drink in silence. Meanwhile, Hiko glanced in the opposite direction, to the girl setting down her cup. Hatsu was understandably withdrawn. This was the last meeting, and at the end of it, her engagement would be finalized.

He had invited himself to the meeting, by purposefully delaying his delivery until just before lunch. Well, he had counted on the hospitality of the Takahashi household, but it all worked out in his favor. The bride’s family, they said, was a little small in comparison and it didn’t hurt to have another person.

“This is a new kind of tea.” The crow boy was saying. “It’s called gyokuro, ‘jade dew’. Its preparation is quite similar to sencha, but as you can tell, the taste is close to perfection.”

Hiko thought it was a little flat, although Nobuo and Mito readily offered compliments. The crow boy’s family was an array of stone-faced individuals, who had allowed themselves to appear pleased. They had reserved this private room, and it was suddenly stifling.

Damn it, he wanted to flip the restaurant table over and spill his information, just so he could head to the Shirobeko. It was already March, and soon, he had a more important meeting to attend.

Hatsu interrupted his internal grumbling. “Thank you for the tea. I apologize, but I have to step out for a moment.” She bowed her head, before leaving the room.

After a minute, Hiko excused himself as well.

* * *

She was leaning against the porch railing, her eyes vacantly staring into the distance. She was very still, startling only when he cleared his throat.

“You’re just going to give up?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Go ahead, then. No one can help you if you’re not willing to accept a chance of escape.”

“Help me? You?” Incredulity touched her voice.

“Who else?”

“But…why? I’m nobody.” She sounded so self-deprecating, it made his stomach curdle. It reminded him of his idiot apprentice’s mindset, except his idiot apprentice had the will to keep living. This girl was too close to disregarding her life, and if she married the crow boy, she would be broken completely.

And despite his own dislike of interference, Hiko couldn’t forgive himself if he let the situation spiral into such pain.

“I don’t like seeing unhappy faces.” He retorted. “Regardless, your fiancé has a secret that you and your family deserve to know. If you confront your parents to end this, I’ll reveal it. Otherwise, your misery will multiply from here on. It’s up to you, if you want to live free of anyone else.”

Turning on his heel, he went inside alone. Hatsu didn’t rejoin the meeting until a few minutes later, her cheeks reddened from the cool weather. The families talked amongst each other, and Hiko was quiet during the discussion, even as Nobuo began to conclude.

“Then, if none of us object-”

A soft voice cut him off. “I do. I don’t want to marry.”

Ah, so she had opted to act and seize control of her future. The girl realized she did have a choice, and he could hardly keep a straight face.

An uncle of the Ueda clan was quick to reply. “What do you mean? This is a good match. Or is there someone else in the picture?”

“It is not because of another man.” Hatsu said. “I meant what I said, by not wanting to marry. I don’t want to marry at all, because I’m not interested. If anything, I wish to become a nun.”

“This is the last meeting.” Her mother murmured, clasping her hand. “Things have progressed this far already. It would be difficult to change it now.”

Hiko interjected. “Not even because of debt?”

“What are you talking about?” The crow boy spoke up, his voice rising to a pitch. “You’re rude to insinuate.”

“Like Hatsu-san, I meant what I said. The gambling houses were far too happy to give me your name. More than a few yakuza, as well.” He enjoyed the way the crow boy’s face contorted, and even more when he revealed the sum. The air was tense as he recited the sources of each fraction. It had taken him the past three weeks to recover such information, from Kyoto’s underground networks. His old connections, spies and ronin and entrepreneurs, were shocked to see him, but it had been worth it.

Naturally, the Ueda family didn’t appreciate his hard work and ordered him to leave. Hiko acquiesced, noticing the concerned expressions Nobuo and Mito shared. He lingered by the road, deciding to see it all the way through.

Half an hour later, Hatsu came out with his glazed ceramic set. “Our side agreed that the other party isn’t suitable, and everything has been retracted. There will be no wedding, after all. I’m sorry about your gift. It looks like it won’t be used.”

He shrugged. “Clay is only clay. A person’s heart is worth more than that.”

Her mouth quivered. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am, so I’ll be going. There are two people I have to visit in Kyoto. I wish you well, so goodbye.”

“Thank you, Ni’itsu-san, and goodbye.” She replied, giving him a bright smile. He had saved that smile, and that reassured him.

He started walking, and his thoughts turned to Sekihara. She would have to hold on a little longer; someone else had waited for him much longer than she had. He had this incident to blame, for reminding him of that person.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He muttered as the wind rustled his coat.

There was no reply. He hadn’t expected one, anyway.


	20. Tsukemono

Tae had only been waiting for one visitor, so she was surprised to see her parents departing a carriage in front of the Shirobeko. They had moved to the countryside, because of their aching joints. Even now, their gaits were deliberate and accompanied by her father’s wooden cane.

“Oh, Sae invited your mother and father to see Makoto.” Toru belatedly informed her, as he wiped a table.

She should have expected that, but part of her felt on edge. She had told everyone that an acquaintance was stopping by to visit, but couldn’t detail who it was. There was always something, a drifting customer or a broken dish, to interrupt her. Regardless, she was busy, with helping in the restaurant, happily rocking Makoto to sleep, and washing his tiny clothes. She only managed to reveal that her visitor was a man.

 _He probably won’t arrive today, either. Still, there’s one more day, before the time frame for meeting is over. Knowing him, he’d show up at the last minute, asking if I missed him. So, it’s good that I can catch my breath before seeing him again._  She reassured herself, as she opened the door.

Okaa-san noticed first, a smile creasing her weathered face as she touched Otou-san’s elbow. “Look, dear, it’s Tae. I told you she’d be here. Tae, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you.” Sekihara Tsuru wasn’t very tall, a handspan shorter than her daughters, but her embrace was firm. Her white hair was in a thick bun, brushing Tae’s chin, and her dry hands were cool.

Tae held her mother by the forearms, offering an apologetic smile. “I know, and I’m sorry I couldn’t visit the last time I was in Kyoto. Otou-san, are you feeling any better?” He had suffered from heart problems, and the doctors had recommended complete rest and quiet.

Sekihara Shuuzo was paying the carriage driver. He seemed smaller, due to his hunched shoulders. His bald head tilted towards her; his hearing was weaker on the left side. “Hm? Ah, yes, I am. I can work in the garden now, and we brought tsukemono. We know how much you and Sae like them.” He beamed, probably reminiscing.

“That’s right, there’s  _senmaizuke_  and  _shibazuke_.” Okaa-san added. “You can’t get these specialties in Tokyo! We made plenty, so take as much as you like with you, when you return.”

“I definitely will. I’ll tell the staff to help out.” She glanced at the back of the carriage and startled at the number of containers. “They’ll have to make multiple trips.”

* * *

Sweet turnips, thinly sliced with konbu and vibrant peppers. Cucumber and eggplant in plum vinegar, pink from perilla leaves and spiked with ginger. Wrinkled umeboshi, mild red carrot, crisp daikon and water lily root.

The large table was crowded, although everyone was in high spirits and didn’t complain. The others teased her for asking for extra, as if she were a child, but she laughed it off. Salty, sweet, sour pickles on rice had been her weakness for as long as she could remember.

“I wonder if Makoto will like tsukemono.” She looked at her nephew, who was currently fawned over by his grandparents. Otou-san was trying to hold him, and Okaa-san adjusted his grip, moving the baby’s shoulders.

“He will.” Sae replied, her own bowl teeming with the assorted pickles. “I was craving them so often, Toru had to keep them away from me.”

“He said the baby would be born soaked in vinegar.” Masa confided. His free hand had disappeared into the space between him and Hotaka, and Tae tried not to grin. “We told him it was fine and that it could have been worse, but he was stubborn!” There was a ripple of laughter, as Toru grudgingly smiled.

“Well, he’s certainly healthy. Oh, he’ll be big soon.” Okaa-san cooed, patting Makoto’s cheek. “I only wish we could stay longer. We have to get back before nightfall.”

“It’s fine if you spend the night.” Toru suggested.

“No, we have to prepare for the planting. We’ll visit again for his shrine visit, but we can’t stay longer right now.”

Another voice joined the conversation. “You’re going to miss out then. Tae-san’s having a visitor later. Some gentleman friend.”

 _Damn you, Yasu!_  She thought, keeping her smile fixed on. “Yes, he’s a  _friend_.” She emphasized but surprised herself. She had never consciously thought that Hiko-san was a friend.

_I suppose he is. I don’t have to talk about business with him, just enjoy his company. Then, he’d be the first friend I’ve made in a long time._

Hotaka jumped in, rapidly firing questions. “Is he a local here? What’s his name?”

“…well, you’ve already met him. The last time I visited, he came to the restaurant.” She kept it vague enough, but Aki caught on right away.

“It’s the fellow you threw sake at, isn’t it?”

She sighed. “It is.” She let everyone else retell the story, before explaining their remaining encounter in Tokyo. There were some instances she omitted, like the morning glories and when he carried her after the rain. Her parents, especially, would have misinterpreted. Even now, they were quietly attentive, and she had to avoid directly looking at them. She knew the reason why; this touched too close to what they called ‘the sole regret of their lives’.

More than anything, she didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere. Her sister and brother-in-law commented on how coincidental it was, to meet that customer again. The younger employees were more curious, about his change in behavior.

“There’s nothing to celebrate this time, so I’m sure he’ll restrain himself. Now that I’ve told all of you, don’t surprised if you see Ni’itsu-san around.” Tae concluded. It was a little strange to refer to him by his professional name.

“That’s right, we should only ban my sister from the dining room, so she isn’t tempted to make a repeat performance.” Sae quipped. “Sorry, Tae, but I can’t cover for you this time!”

“He knew the difference, anyway.” She said, shaking her head at the memory. The conversation steered to inquiries about Tsubame and the rest in Tokyo. It reminded her that she had to introduce Tsubame in person. Her parents deserved to know who would inherit the Akabeko in time.

They decided to leave in late afternoon, and Toru contacted a carriage driver. Okaa-san was giving advice to Sae, while trying to extend holding Makoto.

“Your grandparents’ graves will need tending, because of last month’s snow.” Otou-san reminded them.

“I’ll do it tomorrow, before I leave in the evening.” Tae answered.

“Good.” He patted her shoulder. “Come see us soon, when the Akabeko isn’t busy. You can eat all the pickles you want.”

“Mm, I plan to stop by during Obon.”

“We’ll look forward to that. In the meantime, take care of yourself. Your mother and I are glad that you’ve found your place in Tokyo. I hope we can meet your friends soon.” He smiled at her.

“I can’t bring them all here!” She protested but laughed. “I’ll see you in summer.”

With that and a few lingering farewells, the visit came to an end.

* * *

It was barely past dawn when she arrived in the cemetery. The Sekihara family had a squared off section, among the dense gravestones. As she walked up the inclined land, she drew her shawl around her to protect against the morning chill.

She had always been efficient at cleaning the graves, and this time was no different. Half an hour passed, before she lit incense sticks for her grandparents. After silently conveying the news of Makoto’s birth and Tsubame’s inheritance, she bowed and headed back the way she came. However, a flash of motion caught her eye.

There was a crouching bulky shadow, which looked incredibly familiar. The shadow stood, his coat and hair swaying enough to show the side of his face. It really  _was_  Hiko-san. Then, what was he doing here in this cemetery? She was about to call out to him but decided against it. It would be rude to shout, so instead, she stepped closer.

He noticed almost instantly, turning in a blur to face her. “Sekihara?” His voice was low and a little raw.

It made her abruptly stop. “Hiko-san? I apologize, if I bothered you. Should I-?”

“No, you haven’t. Don’t be awkward, we promised to meet, didn’t we?” He smirked, and despite its irritating connotation, she felt relieved this time.

“I know I did, I wasn’t sure that  _you_  remembered.”

“I wouldn’t forget. It’s the only thing that kept me through this winter.” That warmed her, but before she could agree, he asked. “How are my idiot apprentice and his family?”

“Better than fine, since Kenji can roll around. We have a baby in our family too; my sister’s had a son.”

“Good for them and good for her.” His chin lifted in the direction beyond her. “Telling the ancestors?”

“Yes, I thought they would like hearing about the new heir. And what about you?” She attempted to peer around him, but he blocked her view with a dismissing wave of his hand.

“I had my own visit to make, but the Shirobeko is next. That is, after breakfast.” There was a hidden invitation in his words, and she gave a wry smile.

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Then, join me anyway. I’m tired of eating alone.” He departed, but even though she had to catch up with his long strides, she didn’t move right away.

She had glimpsed a name etched onto the stone. It only took that one glance to make her heartbeat pause. The splashed sake and the carefully arranged peonies showed how obvious it was, that this person was important to him.

And her name was Natsuko.


	21. Tarako

Hiko picked at his salted roe and tried not to look across the table. He could feel Sekihara’s questioning gaze on him. Why was he at the cemetery? Who was he visiting? But of course, since he was eating and Sekihara was too nice to ask, things were at a standstill. An extremely quiet standstill, for that matter.

“Did you like the vase?” It should have been a harmless question, so why did he feel nervous? Damn this awkwardness!

“I did. Thank you, it’s so lovely.” She must have smiled, and his gaze lifted to confirm that.

“Of course it is.”

“I knew you’d say that.” She sighed and wrapped her hands around her cup of sencha. “How has your business been?”

“A pain in the ass.” In between bites of the savory  _tarako_ , he described the incident with Hatsu and the unwanted marriage. The news of the failed engagement had traveled quickly amongst his underground connections. The girl was planning to join a temple, while the crow boy had disappeared. At least, no one had mentioned the presence of a potter.

“That was very kind of you, Hiko-san.” Sekihara said, once he had finished. Her expression had been taut the whole time.

He scoffed. “Kind? I just didn’t want any responsibility, if she discarded her own life.”

“It was kind.” She argued. “She wouldn’t have been happy, that poor girl. Even if he liked her face, youth and beauty fade. Eventually, he might have left her, with a heavy debt too. So, you saved her, Hiko-san.”

“You’re surprisingly passionate about this.”

“As a woman, I know how tough it can be.” She refilled her drink; the steam momentarily billowed upwards. “I’ve advised my sister, our friends, and even Kaoru about it. Marriage is not a lighthearted matter.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve drunk sake nearly everywhere, but never three cups of it in a shrine.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “I see.”

“Are you thinking about Natsuko?” He was right, judging by the surprise and guilt on her face. He laughed, but it tasted bitter. “I was honest with you, and before you ask, she wasn’t my lover either.”

“Then, who-?” She stopped herself; she probably thought it was rude to pry.

“She was someone important to me.” He left it at that. She probably would have liked Sekihara, although the two of them in one place would have overwhelmed him. “You peeked at her grave. Are you jealous?”

Ah, there was that flustered expression he liked. The pink on her cheeks was a more tempting shade than the color of his breakfast. “I didn’t say anything of the sort, Hiko-san. I admit, my curiosity got the better of me, but I tend to be like that with friends.”

“Is that what I am?”

“I could always call you my former part-time worker.” She suggested. “But I didn’t pay you.”

Not in money, he thought. Back then, seeing her had been enough, but now, it wasn’t. “The only compensation I’ll ask for is time. It’s your last day in Kyoto, isn’t it?”

“Yes, we have a few hours before I leave in the afternoon. I only want to stop by the Shirobeko for lunch; you can decide how we spend the morning.”

He was about to say that he didn’t care, but he remembered something at the last second. “Unless you disagree, I have to buy materials for the ceramics.”

“I wouldn’t mind. It’s not any different from buying persimmons, and it’d be interesting to see your business sense.”

“If you find it dull, there wouldn’t be a fox wedding to save us.”

“That’s a good thing.” She corrected. The memory made her avert her eyes, and he grinned.

* * *

Certain vendors were better at different colors. For example, Nakahara had the lapis lazuli mixture he favored, while Yamamoto specialized in green and black.

“Is that everything?” Sekihara asked, eyeing his box. He had tucked it under his arm, but it was still bulky and almost full with his items.

“No. I have to buy gold.”

“Gold?”

“For kintsugi. A customer requested a piece, from the broken shards of a work.” It wasn’t a technique he used frequently, given its expense. He would have to melt the gold down and mix it into lacquer to seal the shards. However, the end result would be beautiful, more so with its renewal.

There was only one person he bought gold from. The merchant’s shop was officially run by a middle-aged man, but his widowed mother was the brains behind the trade. She was diminutive, quietly inclining her snowy head when they entered.

“Torikai-san.” He bowed to her and told her how much he needed. Her hand quivered as she wrote down a sum in a small book. He scrawled a lower price underneath her characters, to participate in the silent negotiation. At last, Torikai nodded and slowly walked into the back.

Hiko explained to Sekihara. “I’ve known Torikai Suzume for years. When her son was younger, the yakuza wanted her land. She refused, going to the police, but when they finally hauled their asses here, it was too late. The bastards had cut out her tongue.”

Sekihara’s eyes widened. “Oh, that’s horrible.”

He had felt the same, when he had found out. He would have been too young to do anything, but he had still felt angry. “She’s only thankful she can write.” He managed to say, before Torikai returned.

He paid for the gold, but he noticed that the old woman was beaming at Sekihara.

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Sekihara Tae.” She bent at the waist. Torikai patted her hands in a friendly gesture, and her gaze flitted between the two of them.

“She’s a friend, visiting for today.” He said.

The old woman’s lips pursed.

A grimace curled his mouth. “Since we’re finished, we have to go. I’ll come back if I need more.” With that, he ushered Sekihara out.

Fortunately, lunch was a distraction. The Shirobeko employees recognized him, and they alternated clamoring around their table.

“If you’re expecting another sake-involved spectacle, don’t hold your breath.” He told them.

“The tables need to be taken care of.” Sekihara gently reminded, and they reluctantly left after their soups arrived. When the bowls were clean, she remarked. “My brother-in-law’s relatives are visiting. He and my sister have to entertain them, but I can bring you back to say hello.”

He said no. She didn’t accept that, dragging him to greet the rest. The extended family was a large bunch, but her nephew was healthy and docile.

Suddenly, she noticed the time. “My train leaves in an hour.”

He gritted his teeth. “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”

He waited, as she ran for her luggage and an opportunity for a rushed goodbye. There was a crowd of people at the station, but from the train’s disturbing dark smoke and the frustrated faces, he doubted that the departure would be any time soon. Sekihara briefly spoke to a conductor and relayed the news to him.

“There’s been an engine problem. They might not be finished until tomorrow, so everyone has to find lodgings…” She trailed off.

He looked at her. “Are you returning to the Shirobeko?”

“I’m thinking it over, because of my brother-in-law’s family. They’re staying over, and we saw how it crowded was. I’ll ask if we can empty a closet…”

The thought of Sekihara sleeping in a cramped closet irked him. Before he knew it, he said. “I have extra room.”

She startled. “Excuse me?”

Damn, the idiotic part of his brain had taken control. “If you don’t want to, you could stay at an inn. Although, I believe you might have trouble with the latter, considering all of these passengers.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“If you were, I wouldn’t have offered. It would only be for tonight, where my idiot apprentice used to sleep. It’s still bigger than a closet, and there’s a door. In the morning, I’ll escort you back, in one piece. Only if you agree, it’s your choice.”

She was fighting back a smile. “Still, this is very forward, Hiko-san. If you were someone I didn’t know as well, I’d refuse, but…” The smile won out, as she clasped her hands together. “I know you’re a kind person. You wouldn’t do anything dishonorable. Besides, you did say I had to compensate you with time. And I like your company, so lead the way.”

Her words sent that terrifying, exhilarating feeling up his spine. That was love; it made one too sensitive and pleased over the smallest things. He coughed, pivoting away from her. “I walk fast, so keep up. If you can’t, I’ll carry you there if I have to.”

“You won’t have to. I’ll pull through.” She promised, squaring her shoulders. He was ashamed that he was a little disappointed.

* * *

It was dusk, when they arrived at his home. He removed his shoes to step inside, and he headed for the room his apprentice once occupied. It was mostly bare, the way it had remained for years, but on the sole shelf, the spare bedding was fine. The floor was slightly dusty, and he turned back to reach for the broom. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Sekihara lingered at the front steps.

His forehead creased as he walked over to her. “What? It might be messy, but it’s clean. Or are you getting nervous?” He smirked.

She practically jumped but recovered. “You’re mistaken, if you think I’m intimidated by being alone with you.” Her mouth quirked as she strode past him. The next thing she said nearly sent him reeling. “After all, I used to be married.”


	22. Omake: Ramune

The ‘Beko was a wagon the color of rust, with a roof and tarp to protect the containers of food. The wheels squeaked as Yahiko pushed it. The weather was getting warmer, enough for the cherry buds to start unfolding. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, and it came away damp.

“Yahiko-kun, do you want me to help?” Tsubame anxiously asked.

“Nah, this isn’t any harder than how the hag trains me.” He puffed. “Anyway, you did most of the cooking this morning. Thanks for that.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I just hope Tae-san won’t be angry.” Their employer had told them to relax this week, but he suggested to Tsubame that they make some bento boxes and sell them. There would be many people outside, admiring the spring flowers, and who’d pass up this opportunity for profit? He certainly wouldn’t.

“I told you, she’ll appreciate the money. We’ve already sold five, so we have twenty-five more to go. Then, we can stop by the dojo for  _our_  lunch.”

“It was nice of Kenshin-san and Kaoru-san to invite us.” She agreed.

It was an unusually warm day, and both of their faces quickly dampened with sweat. They sold all twenty-five boxes just after noon, leaving the ‘Beko in its shed behind its mother restaurant. Before they could leave, he held up his hand. “I need a minute to rest.” His muscles were probably going to be sore later.

“Y-yes. Oh, I just remembered we have these.” She hurried inside and reappeared with two bottles in her arms. He could barely believe his own eyes, even when she explained. “It’s ramune.”

“Seriously?!” The drink was a privilege, reserved for the year’s hottest months.

She hushed him, adding. “The manufacturer owed Tae-san because his deliveries were late last summer, so he sent some over.”

“Lucky us.” He opened their bottles and took the first sip of his. Sweet and sour fizzed on his tongue. “This is great.” He exhaled.

“Mm, it is.”

They sat on the back steps, enjoying the carbonated lemonade in silence. Suddenly, Tsubame asked. “Doesn’t Hiko-san live in Kyoto?”

His eyebrows furrowed at the question. “He lives in this rundown house not too far away.”

“Then, Tae-san might see him again.”

Oh, that was why she mentioned him. “Maybe.” He conceded.

“I hope so. He gave her such pretty flowers.”

“Yeah, it was kind of gross.” He muttered but grudgingly said. “But I guess it’s fine, if they’re both happy.”

“Of course. They like each other, after all.” That was true, the atmosphere had been weird whenever they were together.

He jokingly remarked. “What if they get married? Since Tae’s adopted you and Kenshin was raised by his master, does that mean you and Kenshin will be stepsiblings?”

Tsubame nearly dropped her bottle. “I didn’t think about that! Would I have to call him nii-san? And Kaoru-san, she’d be nee-san, then?” She was perfectly serious, which made it even funnier.

Yahiko laughed so hard, his eyes teared up.

* * *

The citrus flavor of ramune still lingered in her mouth, when they approached the dojo. In the yard, there was a sheet spread over the grass. Kenji was rolling on it, slowly turning onto his stomach and then his back. Kenshin was trying to watch his son and divide the food at the same time, as Kaoru called out. “The two of you are right on time, so hurry before it gets cold!”

Yahiko eagerly grabbed a plate, eyeing an arrangement of golden tempura. “Good, because I’m starving!”

“I swear, your appetite’s going to be like Sano’s soon…”

As soon as they were settled, they began to eat. Considering the recent conservation with Yahiko, Tsubame couldn’t quite bring herself to directly look at anyone else, not at first. She smiled at the baby, who was still rolling, having already eaten. “How cute. Does this happen often?”

Kenshin answered. “This one thinks it’s only because of the blanket. Usually, he tries to crawl. How is Tae-san in Kyoto?”

“She wrote that she saw her nephew.”

“Oh, that’s great news.” Kaoru said, from her spot next to her husband. “I know Tae was looking forward to being an aunt. Did she mention anything else?”

“No, it was a short letter.”

“I see.” She frowned, and Kenshin touched her shoulder.

“With Shishou, it was not guaranteed they’d meet.”

“But still…”

Tsubame spoke up. “Um, were you wondering about that as well? About them meeting again in Kyoto?”

“We both were.” He sheepishly admitted. “It’s…interesting. Especially since it’s Shishou, who can be picky. This one has never seen him so invested.”

“And Tae’s a romantic, so it’d be nice for her.” Kaoru added. “We can cheer for her together, right?”

“Well, what about the Akabeko?” Yahiko interrupted. “What, is Kenshin’s master going to leave his house? Because she’d never leave the restaurant. And wait, why are we talking about this, anyway? It’s not like he proposed.” He trailed off, grumbling.

At that moment, Kenji provided a distraction, in trying to crawl towards the bathhouse. He was surprisingly fast, and everyone almost tripped over each other to get to him.

Yahiko won out, lifting the baby by the armpits. “He should learn Hiten Mitsurugi when he’s older. That divine speed is showing already.”

“Kamiya Kasshin, first.” Kaoru corrected.

After their stomachs were full and their makeshift picnic was disassembled, they departed to view the cherry blossoms. Tsubame craned her head upwards, gazing at the small flowers. A breeze swept by and ruffled her short hair.

“A petal’s stuck.” Yahiko told her, pointing near her ear. In return, she motioned her finger towards the ones on his head. He hurriedly combed through with his fingers, and she laughed. Behind them, Kenshin blew at a pinwheel. Kenji cried out at the spin of color and Kaoru beamed as she held him.

It would be nice, if every year could be as peaceful as this, Tsubame thought. In a fragrant shower, the pink and white petals whirled down.


	23. Genmai

Tae’s blood was racing, as she started to cook. She had headed for the kitchen almost immediately, looking for dinner rations. Brown rice, miso, squash, and dried vegetables. It was humble fare, in contrast to the impressive stash of sake. As she prepared the miso in one pot, she fried the rest in a pan. The motions were the best use of her energy.

She hadn’t revealed her marriage, to get the better of him. Well, not completely. She had thought it was time, especially since he had mentioned someone in his past. Natsuko. She couldn’t help wondering who she was, to make Hiko-san look so solemn at her grave. Anyway, it had been long enough, that she didn’t feel ashamed about divulging. She had told Kaoru as recently as last year, and it was refreshing to be honest. Or at least, that was what she thought.

Hiko-san was outside, grilling mushrooms. He hadn’t spoken, and she felt…uneasy. Usually, he would have something to say.

_Well, I can’t let it bother me. We have to eat first._

She spooned out the miso and rice, setting the table afterwards. Then, she walked through the front door. The evening sky was dark blue, but the fire was bright enough. Hiko-san was carefully removing the mushrooms from the skewers, placing them into a bowl. It was almost funny, to see the contrast between the dexterous work and his tall frame.

“Last fall,” He suddenly remarked. “there were matsutake.”

“Oh, really? I’m sorry I missed out.” She replied, glancing at the skewers. “Although, I’ll admit that I don’t mind shiitake.”

“For me, they’re an excuse to drink the strongest sake I have.” He snorted and held up a jug. “Want some?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t. I just wanted to tell you that everything else is finished.”

He nodded, lifting his bowl. As he passed her, he asked. “Can you not hold your liquor?”

“Actually, you’d be surprised. It’s hard for me to get drunk.” She informed him. “But I’ve already intruded this much.”

“I’m the host, and I’m offering.”

At this rate, they were going to argue all night, so she answered. “I’ll think about it.”

They sat facing each other at the table, and the first few minutes were spent in silence. The brown rice tasted fine, she noted. It was a familiar taste, along with the sliced squash and mushrooms. That nostalgia quickly grew, when Hiko-san cleared his throat.

“So…you used to be married?”

Her mouth pursed. “It was a long time ago.”

“Not to the tanuki girl’s father.”

“I told you that already. My husband was a different person.”

“Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

She placed her chopsticks down, looking at him. “Does it change your impression of me? That I was married before and didn’t tell you?”

“Absolutely not.” He said vehemently, and his conviction made her blink. “I’m not that petty. Besides, I have excellent taste in the company I keep, and I don’t change my mind over learning more about them.”

On the surface, he sounded conceited, but she only felt relieved. The earlier uneasiness was just her own insecurity. “Still, you sound like you want to hear about it.”

“Well, I do.” His voice was gruff.

“Then, I’ll tell you.” She gestured to his bowl. “When I was sixteen, my family had nothing to eat but brown rice.”

* * *

It was the middle of the night when the rebellion happened; later, she would learn that it was in favor of the emperor. However, at the time, they didn’t know the specifics. She had been woken by distant shouting, and she blearily stumbled out to hear her parents talking in hushed tones.

“Should we evacuate?” Okaa-san murmured. It sounded like she was standing in the dining area, to see what was going on.

“They’re fighting out there, and if we’re caught, they may attack before we can explain ourselves.” Otou-san answered. “We should wait it out.”

Tae rubbed at her eyes. It had been a long day, and she was on her feet for most of it. Sae called her name and she forced herself to attention. “Yes?”

Her sister clasped her shoulder. “We need as much sleep as we can, so let’s go back.”

She nodded, mustering enough energy to follow Sae. However, they never reached their destination.

There was an awful clanging noise, one she hated. It was the bells, and they only rang when there was a fire. Her parents hurried out, blinking when they noticed their daughters.

Her mother recovered first. “Good, you’re awake, girls. There must be a fire somewhere, so we have to hurry.”

“Is it close?” Tae yawned.

“No, we don’t even see smoke yet, but we should go.” Her father replied.

He was right. Somehow, in between grabbing what she could, the smell of burning permeated the air. Her parents shouted for them to leave, and the four of them ran into the street. Some of their neighbors were huddled in their own groups, but most were carrying buckets of water. A faint light caught Tae’s eye, and with growing horror, she realized that at the end of the street, the houses had caught fire. In fact, behind them, those buildings were also in flames.

“Toru-kun!” Sae’s cry made her turn, to see her twin rush to their neighbor. He was twenty, still helping out in his father’s store, as a second son should. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but the two of you should evacuate. The Shirobeko might be next.” He said.

“In that case, we can’t.” Tae spoke up and joined the line for water. “Kyoto has fires all the time. We can’t abandon the restaurant now, especially because it’s home.” Despite her own words, she was worried. This already looked bad, and most likely, the firemen were tending to the sources elsewhere.

For the next few hours, she joined the bucket relay. The smoke made her cough and she frequently wiped her sweaty face. Next to her, Sae wasn’t faring well either, and Toru noticed, urging her to rest. She couldn’t be persuaded, but then they all had to fall back, for the fire spread. It moved like a living thing, with alarming speed.

The flames jumped, licking at the walls of the Shirobeko. Otou-san tried splashing his bucketful, but it was too high to reach. She desperately wondered:  _when would the firemen arrive?_  The next second, she realized it didn’t matter, for the wood set ablaze. As they left for safer ground, she saw tears on Okaa-san’s face. Tae could only clench her blistered hands, and it was hard to keep her chin up.

The next morning was terribly cruel, because the Shirobeko had been burned to its framework.

* * *

“What does the Hamaguri Gate rebellion have to do with your marriage?” Hiko-san interrupted.

“I was getting to that, so please be patient.”

“We don’t have all night.”

She paused. “I’ll explain this quickly. Toru’s family store also suffered, but he was planning to propose to my sister. However, her dowry wasn’t possible, not while paying for rebuilding and repairs. We barely had enough money to buy brown rice, and that was what we ate for weeks. But Toru came up with a deal for both families. If he and Sae married, Sae would work with his family and he’d take on some of our debt.”

“That’s foolish.” He scoffed.

“Yes, that’s what everyone thought, but I took his side. He loved her that much, and even when she had nothing to offer. It worked in their favor, because his store recovered first. They were happy and I was glad for them, but it was half of what we needed.” She finished off her miso, before adding. “This is when my former husband enters.”

* * *

It was a negotiation that worked for both parties, the cloth merchant had said. His wayward son needed a wife, so he could be serious about the business. They needed money and didn’t have enough for a dowry. Anyway, the merchant explained, investing in a historical establishment like the Shirobeko would be good in the long run. A tie to the cloth trade wouldn’t hurt them either.

Their debt would also be erased. Given their situation and the impending winter, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. Despite her parents’ hesitation, she convinced them to agree. She was prepared to go through with it, for the sake of the Shirobeko. After her wedding, the money came in gradual payments and reminded her to keep going on the worst days. To put it bluntly, the marriage was not happy.

Tae didn’t like to remember him, and she had tried hard enough to forget, so she only had a dim memory of his face. She had rarely seen him anyway, because most of his time was devoted to his mistress. It wasn’t exactly a secret, and after her wedding day, the neighbors eyed her with pitiful expressions.

At first, she ignored them, because her life could have been worse. He had only touched her a few times, but her monthly cycle was regular, without fail. She was allowed to work in the Shirobeko, once her husband’s books were balanced. The exterior of the restaurant had been completely rebuilt, so this had been the right choice for her family.

Not everyone was so sure.

“You must do something, so he comes home more often.” Her mother-in-law fussed. Tae heard this from her about five times a day. “At this rate, the business will fail. You must do more, to keep him with you.”

“I’ll speak to him tonight.” She always promised.

And every night, the same thing happened. Her husband would lie down, his back turned to her. She had to force herself to begin the conversation.

“Will you be home tomorrow?” She would ask.

There was only silence. They both knew the answer.

“Is there anything I can do?” She’d attempt. “To make you stay, to make your parents happy?”

Still, there was silence. However, one night, he did answer. “Leave me alone, bitch.”

After that, she stopped talking to him. Wifely duty be damned, he was horrible, and whenever a customer was horrible, all interaction was limited to what was necessary. She quietly moved her futon away and kept to herself. The only time she could relax was when she visited Sae. She couldn’t, with her parents, because they would regret the decision. They might have persuaded her to divorce him, but that meant she would have to pay her husband for leaving him. No, they needed the money. Sae understood, yet she still felt terrible.

“If he ever hurts you, come to me. Toru and I will protect you, we’ll do what we can for you.”

“I can’t intrude, and he hasn’t laid a hand on me. Don’t worry.”

“I  _have_  to worry. I’m the older one.”

“By ten minutes.” She squeezed her sister’s hand, conceding. “If something happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

However, Sae didn’t have long to wait. It was a year into the marriage, when her father-in-law confronted her. “Is it true that you’re barren?”

She was taken aback. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“My son has told us that you’re unable to bear a child.”

Of course, he would say that. She immediately recognized what this actually was. If she was infertile, he could be rid of her. She didn’t want to stay in the marriage either, for there was no longer a reason. The Shirobeko was almost ready to return to full operation, and her in-laws’ business was suffering, no thanks to her husband.

But if she confirmed that, there would be consequences. In life, women were weak, but mothers were strong. Only childbearing women were strong enough to be respected by men. Her future would be bleak if she admitted otherwise, and she had to steady herself before replying. “It’s only been a year, but we will try harder.”

It didn’t mollify him. “Indeed. The least my son can do is protect the family name. However, you must improve yourself as well.”

As expected, nothing changed, except for the current gossip. In the following weeks, she heard nothing but talk of her supposed infertility. It had spread over the streets like plague, and every whisper drew her ear.

“They’ve been married a year, and no child to speak of.”

“He has to divorce her, there’s no other choice.”

“She can’t conceive, and her sister too. Did you hear? Her sister’s in the same situation. Expected, of course, since their mother…”

Anger had flared up inside her. It was true, that her mother had lost babies before. When Sae and Tae were born, their parents had been overjoyed but approaching middle age. Still, it was likely that she and her sister wouldn’t have fertility issues. And for that matter, why was her sister brought into her marital trouble?

Only one person was horrible enough to do this.

It was another week, before she managed to see her husband again. Lately, he hadn’t bothered coming home, choosing to spend his nights elsewhere. He was unkempt and didn’t greet her, but she stopped him from avoiding her. She stood directly in his path, blocking him from his room. She remembered that moment clearly, because dusk made the sky bleed red. Her husband was outlined in that eerie light.

“Why are you doing this?” She demanded. “Why are you starting these rumors? What have I done to you?”

He sullenly glared at her. “All you’ve done is nag me every day. Even when you don’t open your mouth, you act as if you’re the biological child. My own mother takes your side. Tae this, Tae that, what a good wife she is. I’m sick of listening to you and listening about you.”

He was jealous and it disgusted her. He was responsible for his own failures but he chose to blame her instead. It wasn’t as if she was trying to look good, she only wanted to preserve the Shirobeko. “I don’t care if you hurt me, but leave my sister out of it.”

“I never said anything about her, so don’t blame me.”

“But I do.” She had stormed out, and somehow, her feet led her to the marketplace. As she walked, she could feel the weight of gazes on her. They were looking at her, that poor young bride who had no chance at happiness.

Suddenly, she hated their pity.  _Don’t feel sorry for me,_  help  _me_.

She dreaded returning to that cold atmosphere, so she headed for Sae and Toru. To her surprise, her parents were visiting. They were all sitting at the table, eating dinner, and her heart sank. When was the last time she had eaten with company?

Her sister stood, her expression full of concern. “Tae? Are you alright?”

“…I’ve had enough.” She admitted, before telling them everything. By the end of it, her mother wept, and her father’s face was like stone. Then, they had apologized to her, for succumbing to greed.

Okaa-san tightly embraced her. “Forgive us, Tae, for not thinking of you.”

“We should have never accepted that proposal.” Otou-san bitterly said.

“I was the one who convinced you.” She could only reply. It was hard to do so, with tears in her eyes and frustration in her throat.

Sae and Toru were already thinking ahead. It didn’t matter, who would start the divorce proceedings. Usually, the initiator would have to pay the price of the dowry, but there had been no dowry in the first place. There was the possibility that her in-laws would ask for compensation, for the money gone to the Shirobeko. And after the divorce, Tae’s prospects would be low, even more so if she was declared to be barren. It depended on who acted first and it seemed they were already too late.

The next day, the papers arrived to confirm that. Her husband was divorcing her, on the grounds of infertility.

* * *

“I see.” Hiko-san spoke up. “That’s why you said I was kind, for saving that girl from a marriage she didn’t want. You knew exactly how her story would have ended.”

“Yes, that’s right.” They had finished eating, not even a grain of brown rice was left.

“So, you were divorced. Good riddance to him. He sounds like scum.”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead.” She said gently and added. “He died while I was in Tokyo, in some brawl. His family’s business was turned over to a distant cousin, by the way.”

If he cared, he didn’t show it. He folded his arms, rustling his coat. “Anyway, he didn’t deserve you.”

“Maybe he did. I agreed to the marriage for money.”

He scowled. “Don’t be an idiot. You just wanted to help your family. There’s nothing wrong with that and it certainly doesn’t deserve your treatment during…how long did you spend in that hell?”

She bit back her laugh. “A little over two years. I was only nineteen, when the divorce was finalized. Soon after that, the emperor moved to Tokyo. Business improved there, so some of our neighbors wanted to move as well. My reputation was already ruined in Kyoto, so I had nothing to lose by going with them. I could start fresh in Tokyo, and I thought of starting a restaurant.”

“And call it the Akabeko.”

“Mm, but it took a while.” She began to clear the table, stacking her bowls. “I lived with other migrants, helping out at stalls. I eventually saved enough money to buy a plot of land, and the old building that went with it. I cleaned it up and advertised my cooking, but I’m a woman, so I didn’t get many customers. At least, not until I met Kaoru and her father.”

* * *

Tae spent most of her time waiting for anyone to enter the Akabeko. She could be patient; she had been, during the past four years in Tokyo. However, it was also nice to sit and rest a little. It was another empty day, so she sent the part-timers home. She had time to relax…

“Excuse me! Is the owner in here?”

She startled awake and left her chair, heading into the dining area. There was a young girl, her messy ponytail tossed over the shoulder of her kimono. At the time, she was about eleven years old, and her blue eyes were bright, locking onto Tae.

“You’re Sekihara-san, right?”

“Yes, I am. What can I do for you?”

“Can you teach me how to cook?”

“Well, I could, but have you asked your mother first?”

The girl’s face fell. “Okaa-san…isn’t here anymore.”

Tae gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, Otou-san and I have managed until now. But our housekeeper just left, since she’s getting old and her back hurts. Otou-san can’t really cook, so I thought I can try. Oh! I’m Kamiya Kaoru. Otou-san is Kamiya Koshijiro. He works with the police, and he teaches at the dojo, down that way.” Kaoru pointed outside. “I practice kenjutsu too, but I can come here in my spare time. I heard that you cook new dishes, like sukiyaki. If it’s alright, I’d like to learn from you!”

She looked so earnest, that Tae wavered. “I don’t mind, but perhaps, we have to speak with your father.”

Kaoru chewed at her bottom lip. “Then, would you like to eat dinner with us? It’ll be me, Otou-san, and our boarders. We can make room for you.”

And that was how she found herself, seated at Kaoru’s side in the Kamiya household. Tae saw for herself, how dire the situation was. The fish was blackened, the rice was wet and overcooked, and some of the vegetables were still raw. For someone who couldn’t really cook, Kamiya-san, or rather Koshijiro-san at his insistence, was a serious man. His presence was authoritative, like the teacher he was, but he was courteous towards Tae.

“If Kaoru wants to learn, I won’t stop her. Kaoru, you can only visit Sekihara-san twice a week. We shouldn’t bother her more than that.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not a problem for me, I’m rarely busy.” She argued, but Koshijiro-san wouldn’t budge. Kaoru arrived the following afternoon, and Tae assigned her the most basic of tasks.

“Wash the rice by swirling the water around. After three times, the cloudiness should be gone.”

“So that’s when the rice is clean?”

“That’s right.” She watched as Kaoru added the rice to the pot. “Now, add more water.”

“…is this enough?”

“A little more would be good.”

There was a moment’s pause as Kaoru tilted the pitcher of water. “How about now?”

“Oh dear, that’s too much.”

Kaoru was also unwieldy with a knife, and her cuts were sloppy. She knew it too, her brow furrowing as she pressed the blade against the end of a carrot. “Geez, this is hard!”

“It takes practice.” Tae reassured her. By sunset, she had finished showing Kaoru how to make onigiri, when Koshijiro-san walked in. Kaoru greeted him, showing him a round lump of brown rice, and Tae pulled back the curtain to watch.

“See? I can cook, Otou-san, and I’ll only get better from here on.”

“Mm, good work.”

“Wait, don’t eat it.” She moved the onigiri out of his reach and turned to look at Tae. “We’ll sit at a table and have dinner here.”

“You will?” She asked, surprised.

“Of course, why not?” Kaoru glanced up at Koshijiro-san.

He patted his daughter’s head, in a stiff gesture. “Yes, we’ll give her some business. What do you recommend, Sekihara-san?”

She stepped out. “O-oh, well, here’s the menu.”

After she cooked their dishes and served them, she cleaned the stove to the sound of Kaoru’s voice. She talked about Kamiya Kasshin, her friends in the neighborhood, and her efforts in the kitchen. Koshijiro-san was quiet, but while he still looked stern, he was attentively listening. Tae supposed that he was unused to raising a young daughter by himself.

 _At least, he’s trying, and Kaoru’s working just as hard to be close to him_. She thought, as she cleared their empty plates. “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”

“It was all good.” Kaoru’s admission was sullen, and her expression was so cute that Tae laughed.

“Well, I run a restaurant.”

Before they left, Koshijiro-san said. “I’ll bring the students to eat here as well, it’s the least we can do to repay you.”

He kept his word. The Kamiya Kasshin students filled the tables, and they were a publicity boon. Soon, she had to hire full-time staff, and she spent her time cooking for the growing number of customers. By that point, Kaoru was proficient in the kitchen. Her skills were far from perfect, but she could be trusted with the stove. Kaoru’s food was passably edible, but Koshijiro-san still ate it anyway.

He thanked Tae too, for her instruction. He spoke to her, inquiring how she was and how business progressed, and his kindness touched her. Soon, she became deeply fond of him, as well as Kaoru. The younger girl was good at filling the Akabeko’s silence with her temper and energy. Tae didn’t feel so lonely, with Kaoru and Koshijiro-san for company, and she didn’t want that to change.

Against her will, it was suddenly addressed, when Koshijiro-san visited the Akabeko before opening. He had to discuss something, he said. Her first thought was of Kaoru, so she welcomed him in. Over tea, she asked him. “Is something the matter? Is Kaoru alright?”

“There’s nothing urgent. Only, it does have to do with Kaoru.” He cleared his throat. “For the past three years, I’ve raised Kaoru by myself. Soon enough, she’ll be a young woman and perhaps, I won’t know how to handle her. Even now, she isn’t very proper, we both know that. If there was a female relative, I’d ask for help, but there are none. Nevertheless, Kaoru needs someone other than me, a mother figure. Would you accept that role, Sekihara-san?”

Suddenly, it was hard to keep focused. “Th-this is a marriage proposal?” She stammered.

He shifted uncomfortably. “In a manner of speaking, yes. I have to admit, in my heart, no one will be more important than Kyoko, but it isn’t about me. It’s about Kaoru, and you could guide her. The two of you get along well, so this could be a good arrangement. I can wait, if you need time to think.”

She didn’t need that much time. It wouldn’t be terrible to be part of the Kamiya family, but she couldn’t see herself in that lifestyle. Wives were dissuaded from having their own businesses, and she would not abandon the Akabeko, not after how hard she worked.

Then, there was the matter of her own feelings. Her parents’ marriage had been arranged, and while they were strangers to each other at first, they grew to love each other. It would not be hard, to learn to love Koshijiro-san. However, it would be painful as well. She was thankful for his honesty, even though he made it clear that there was no love on his part. Perhaps, she was selfish for trying to protect her feelings, but the memory of her brief marriage was still fresh. And as much as she liked Kaoru, their relationship wasn’t like mother and child.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept.” She searched for the right words. “I can’t think of Kaoru as a daughter, only as a friend or even a niece. We’re close, but in the way fellow women are. In any case, I can’t be her mother and I can’t be your wife. I’m sorry.” She repeated.

“Please, don’t apologize.” He paused. “Thank you, Sekihara-san. It’s probably for the best; I can’t run from the future. Kaoru is my daughter, regardless of who she becomes. I must work harder then, and I apologize if I troubled you.”

“N-no, you didn’t.”

The rest of the day was considerably awkward. Kaoru didn’t act out of the ordinary, as she practiced handling the stove, and perhaps she didn’t know. That was fine with Tae, although she tended to avoid Koshijiro-san. He was always polite, as if nothing had changed, but that made her feel worse.

As time passed, she slowly returned to interacting with him normally, even as her little lessons with Kaoru tapered off. While Kaoru’s food hadn’t improved much, she no longer needed supervision, and both of them were busier. The Akabeko was becoming popular, and Tae had to keep up with its demands. Nevertheless, she was proud of her success and Kaoru visited often, speaking eagerly about teaching the youngest students.

“They’re getting better every day. I’ve almost perfected the succession technique, and Otou-san said that he’ll make me an assistant instructor.”

When that came to pass, Koshijiro-san was drafted. He was with a group of soldiers, stopping by the Akabeko. Tae had to attend to other customers, and it was late, when she realized he was still at his corner table.

He should have been drunk, for the sake bottles made a comical semicircle around his arms, but he showed no sign of it. When she approached to clean the table, he tugged at her sleeve.

“Sekihara-san? Make sure my little girl’s alright.” He sounded so vulnerable, and her heart went out to him. “You…you don’t have to always be with her, but at least, check on her from time to time. Otherwise, I’ll worry too much and…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to say any more.” She assured him as she set a few empty bottles on her tray. “It’s no problem at all.”

“Thank you.” He murmured and released his grip.

It was the last time she spoke to him. The following day, he departed for Satsuma. She didn’t hear anything else, until Kaoru stumbled into the Akabeko, looking so pale that Tae realized the worst had happened. She had fallen to her knees, wondering at the world’s cruelty. They both grieved, and while she offered that Kaoru stay with her, the younger girl refused, citing the dojo.

“I have to keep going, Tae.” She insisted. “I can’t lose Kamiya Kasshin too.”

“I understand.” Tae could only reply.

After that, their meetings were sparse. Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep her promise to Koshijiro-san as well as she liked. The Akabeko was becoming busier every day, and Kaoru had her students to teach. Then, there was that boarder, Hiruma-san. The balding, elderly man looked harmless, but he seemed to hover around Kaoru. It was suspicious, so Tae made sure to speak with him, when he passed by the restaurant.

“Please, sit down.” She ushered him to a table. “I heard you’re boarding with Kamiya Kaoru?”

“Yes, I am. And you must be-?”

“Sekihara Tae, the owner of this establishment.” After formalities were exchanged, she excused herself for a moment. “I’m a little pressed for time, so I have to take care of something while we talk. I hope that’s alright.” She left for the kitchen, only to return with a rack of her three largest knives and a sharpening stone.

Hiruma eyed the rack with trepidation. “Oh, I didn’t realize how busy you are. Sekihara-san, perhaps it’d be best if we save this discussion for a later time.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” She sat across from him and began to scrape a knife against the stone. As she moved the edge away from her, the stone screeched and a fine dust flew in front of Hiruma. “Now, I’ve known Kaoru since she was young, and she’s a good girl, isn’t she?”

“Hm? Of course, I completely agree, Sekihara-san. Very well-behaved.” He flinched as a stone flake soared through the air.

“She’s so kind and her trust is easy to gain. However, if you break her trust, I guarantee that she’ll come after your head. If her father was alive, I’m sure he’d be mindful of her behavior, but he isn’t, so there would be nothing to hold Kaoru back.” She gave a lighthearted laugh, as she inspected the knife’s edge and replaced it in the rack.

“Y-yes, well…”

“Kaoru is sociable, everyone on this street knows her. We’re glad that she isn’t living alone, but of course, we’re very concerned about her.” She began to sharpen another knife, the heaviest one. “If anything happens to her, and word travels fast around here, we’d come to her rescue. Her father worked with the police force, so they know her well. But, nothing will happen, right?”

“Certainly not.” He tried to sound defiant, but his voice had gone up an octave. “Not a hair on her head will be touched.”

“Thank you, Hiruma-san! I’m not sure what I’d do, if she was hurt, especially by someone she trusts. My emotions might take over.” She beamed at Hiruma’s quivering face, subtly tilting the knife’s tip towards him. “But so long as Kaoru is fine, we’ll all be. Don’t you agree?”

“Completely.”

“Good! Oh, look at the time! I have to prepare for the next shift. Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you.” He almost knocked over his chair, before he quickly scurried out.

Her threat had worked, because Kaoru hadn’t been harmed. She heard of Hiruma’s ploy to seize the dojo and that he had been chased out. When Kaoru next visited, she was cheerful, with a new student and a redheaded man beside her. It had ended well, Tae thought to herself and she felt utterly relieved.

* * *

Hiko-san was laughing so hard, she had to stop there. The laughter had started with the knife sharpening and escalated from there. “You must have scared the hell out of him.”

“That was the point, Hiko-san.”

“Then, I’m glad I escaped our first meeting with only sake thrown at me. You’re not a woman to be crossed.”

She was embarrassed, by how much that flattered her. “My temper is my flaw. I learned to hide it with a smile, but there are times when I can only handle so much. Now, it’s your turn.”

That sobered him up. “For what?”

“I told you about my marriage, so it’s your turn to share something.”

“You want to hear about Natsuko.” He corrected.

“Well, not necessarily.”

“That’s a lie.” He confidently said, and she felt disgruntled. “But I’m not drunk enough yet.” He stood and turned for the door, only glancing at her once. “What are you waiting for? I’ll tell you, so come and join me.”

“I won’t drink, Hiko-san.” Still, she followed him, into the spring night.


	24. Sansai

Maybe, it was the anticipation at telling the whole story or the alcohol starting to work in his system, but Hiko felt intensely aware. He had lit the fire again, and the stars hung over the distant treetops. His usual drinking spot was adjacent to his workshop, and the flat boulder was large enough for both of them. Sekihara sat next to him, close enough to touch.

“Let me fill your cup.” She offered.

“I can do it myself, and the bottle is hot.” The season for warmed sake was winding down, so he had seized the opportunity to drink some.

“Of course it is, since you just heated it in the fire.” She pointed out. “And you know that I’m used to handling hot dishes. It’s no problem if I pour for you while you talk.” She smiled, but her eyes said: stop stalling.

He _was_ stalling. Restarting the fire, deliberating over his liquor stash to drink the oldest stuff, arranging the cups on the boulder. However, those meaningless tasks bought him time to think. The past was a collection of bitter memories, and for all these years, he had locked them away. But now, it seemed that it was time to unearth everything. “Go ahead.” He passed the bottle to her. “Feel free to pour a cup for yourself.”

“Perhaps later.” She demurred. Her hands were small, but she didn’t flinch as she accepted the sake. Her movements were also careful and smooth. As the clear liquid pooled in his cup and Sekihara’s head bent closer to him, he could only think of a proverb.

_The sake should be warm, the pourer should have a chignon._

He had never liked that saying, for petty reasons, and he hated how appropriate it was now. He couldn’t even apply his own; it was that wishy-washy time when the snow had melted and the cherry blossoms hadn’t worked up the courage to endure the wind.

“There you are.” The moment was over, because Sekihara set the bottle aside. She looked at him, her gaze attentive, and he was caught off guard for an instant, before remembering to drink.

The first sip was enough to quench the idiocy, and he closed his eyes. “Where should I start? The beginning is too boring. I’ll go backwards, from the time my baka deshi abandoned me to go to war.”

“You wouldn’t.” Her tone was disbelieving, and it made him laugh.

“No, I’m tired of keeping you in suspense.” He pointed to the east, beyond the dense forest. “About a day’s journey from here, there’s an empty clearing. It was almost completely isolated, and it was perfect for a Buddhist group, or what was left of it, to run an orphanage.”

* * *

“Shouya-kun and Atsushi-kun are fighting again!” Someone was yelling, but at the moment, he didn’t care. For starters, he was too busy trying to beat the other boy into submission. He would make him pay. His fists drove into flesh, knocking against bone, as dirty nails scratched his face. The other boy was older and taller, but now, he flailed helplessly on the ground. Everyone else had encircled the grass around them, clamoring either for the nuns or for them to keep fighting.

“That’s enough!” A sharp voice cut the air, and suddenly, he was pulled off. It was the old bat again, he realized, coughing at the strong smell of incense. The head nun’s thin arms restrained him, and he yelped when her knuckles collided against his skull. Supposedly, she had been a samurai’s wife and it was why she was twice as strict. He figured that she walked all over her husband too. “The both of you, what is it this time?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Liar!” He spat. “I actually caught you this time, stealing food from her bowl.”

The nun, Ren, was clearly unmoved, not bothering to ask who he had referred to. “It does not matter, whose fault it was. Both of you will be disciplined.”

“Then why did you ask in the first place?” He muttered and was rewarded with another rap to his head. The old bat instructed another nun to take care of the other boy and the remaining two to usher the crowd away. He tried wriggling free, but her grip tightened.

“I am not finished with you yet.” She sternly said. In the next minute, he was dragged away from the yard, towards the forest. They stopped just short of the trees, and she released him. “Instead of using your fists to solve problems, you must come to me or the other nuns. You’ve been here for almost two years, you should know to trust us.”

He scowled. “He only listens to my fists.”

“Eventually, he will learn to listen to our words, as you will. You have to control yourself.”

“I do. Most of the time.”

“You will make that all the time, if you want to survive. In a matter of years, you’ll be grown and you will learn how it is, to rely on others. So, you must realize that you cannot shun your elders or make enemies out of the people you live with.”

“I already know better. I don’t have to rely on anyone else.” He darkly replied. He remembered two silhouettes, disappearing on separate occasions, and how abandoned he felt. How abandoned he _was_.

“Then, you will remain there until you’re sent for, Shouya-kun.” With that, she left him sitting there, at the edge of the orphanage’s land.

* * *

“Shouya? That’s you?” Sekihara interrupted.

“That was the name I was given at birth.” He grudgingly clarified the writing for her.

“‘To be prosperous’. How…interesting.”

“Stop trying to be polite. I know the name didn’t fit, I hated it. And don’t use it on me, I won’t answer.”

She smiled anyway. “If you say so. Ah, so when I said you were raised in a wealthy household, that’s why you said ‘far from it’. I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He scoffed. “Now, where was I?”

* * *

Under a thick pine tree, he had buried his face into drawn-up knees, when he noticed that someone was stepping toward him.

Even without looking, he could tell who it was. He couldn’t explain it at the time, but he just knew that it was a little girl, with a flimsy braid. It was probably his only guess, since no one else could approach him. The others tended to steer clear of him, because he was relatively new and explicitly said that he did not want to be friends with any of them. He preferred to keep to himself and have some quiet, but they didn’t understand why. They all whispered behind his back, except for Natsu.

“Shouya, it’s dinnertime. Dinner, come on.” He didn’t move right away, and she pulled at his arm. She wasn’t old enough to know how to hold back, so it felt like she was going to dislocate his limb if he didn’t speak up. “Are you listening to Natsu? Natsu said it’s time to eat.”

“I heard you the first time.” But he couldn’t stay mad. He lifted his head, to see her blink at him. Her face was a little slim, and that made him more determined to stop Atsushi from stealing even a grain of her portion. For her age, she was tall; the top of her head was above his waist if they stood next to each other. They had the same cheekbones and thin mouths, and the same flash in their eyes if something troubled them. His defense cracked and he lowered his knees. “I told you, Natsu, it’s nii-san. Not Shouya, I’m nii-san.”

“Nii-tan.” She repeated, climbing onto his back.

“We have to work on your lisp.” He grumbled, but obliged with the piggyback ride she wanted. Soon, she’d be too tall to spoil. No, wait, ‘spoil’ was the wrong word. He just appeased her, because she’d cry and complain if he didn’t, and he hated it when she was annoying.

“Go faster.” She insisted. “Faster, nii-tan.”

“I’m too tired. I carried you to breakfast this morning, because you wouldn’t leave the futon on time.” Still, he quickened his pace.

“But, but Natsu was cold. The futon was warm…”

“Then tonight, I’ll take the whole blanket for myself.”

She shrieked in protest. “Meanie! Not fair!”

“You have to get up somehow, or the others will steal your breakfast. Haven’t you noticed? Idiooot.” He drawled.

“Natsu is not an idiot.” Her little hand slapped his neck. “Don’t take the blanket, it’s Natsu’s.”

“It’s not yours, we share it.” But of course, she’d want to claim it. It was the sole item they could consider a possession. They had been dumped at the orphanage with nothing other than their clothes, which had long been outgrown and cut into rags. Their current clothes were hand-me-downs, destined for the next wave of abandoned brats. That would change, when he was older. “When I’m old enough to make money, I’ll buy you your own blanket.”

“Tomorrow?”

“When I’m an adult, idiot. That sure isn’t tomorrow. Leaving this place is the first step, though.” They’d eat rice three times a day, and he’d work so they wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else. Not the meddling nuns, not the pitying townspeople, and definitely not their useless parents. He could only trust himself, to protect them both.

“Natsu too?” She asked, her voice suddenly small.

“Of course you’ll go with me. I’ll look out for you, because who else will come to your rescue when people steal from you? I won’t leave without you, so remember that.”

Her head fell onto his shoulder. “Yes.”

One minute she was demanding the blanket for herself, the next she was acting docile. Little sisters were so troublesome, he thought as they returned to the main building, but at least, she was his only ally.

* * *

“Natsu. That’s Natsuko?” Then, Sekihara was indignant. “Why didn’t you say she was your sister?”

“I said she was someone important to me.”

“You could have been more specific. I didn’t know that you had family.”

“Did you think I sprouted from the earth?” He rolled his eyes.

She didn’t respond to that. “Was she much younger than you?”

“By five years. When we were left at the orphanage, she was three and I was eight. Our father had abandoned the family, and our mother was unable to care for us afterward. Natsu and I only had each other for those two years. And before you ask about the change to her name and what happened, I’m getting to it. Any more questions?” He glanced at her.

Her mouth quivered, and her hand lifted to act as a shield. “No, I’ll be quiet.”

“What? Are you still angry?” The awareness was back again. He hadn’t meant any harm, in keeping Natsuko’s identity hidden. It was playfulness on his end, but she might have thought otherwise. If she was hurt, well, that’d explain the discomfort worming in his chest.

“I’m not.” She shook her head, and he realized that her expression was full of good humor. “I’m just imagining the both of you as children, and I really can’t. I can only think of your face on smaller bodies. It doesn’t quite work.”

And just like that, the discomfort dissipated. “I’ll have you know, that we were good-looking children. If we were sent into town, heads turned.”

“I’ll take your word for that, and I won’t interrupt again. Please, continue.”

He was going to be sorry, when he continued talking. She wouldn’t laugh, when the rest was revealed. But she had asked, and he couldn’t stop now. “On a night like this, a stranger came to the orphanage. He didn’t introduce himself, but he would be the man I called Master.”

* * *

At dinner, he alternated between watching Natsu finish her share and glaring at Atsushi. The other boy must have recalled their earlier fight and finally turned away. Meanwhile, his sister released her spoon.

“Natsu is tired.”

“So, stay awake until your bowl is empty.” He might have scared off Atsushi, but his vigilance was far from over. There were sixteen children in total, and already, a couple were eyeing the remnants of her meal. They were like hunting birds, waiting to pick off the weakest of the bunch. His patience unraveled, and he grabbed her spoon, digging into her porridge.

“Infuriating little sister…here, just open up or I’ll really take the blanket from you.” He shoved the mouthful toward her. She gave him a sullen look, but her jaw unlocked. He then added. “If anyone steals from _my_ bowl, you’re asking for a fight.”

Unfortunately, the old bat noticed from her place at the head of the table. “The last was not appropriate, Shouya-kun. However, thank you for attending to Natsu-chan.”

“I don’t thank you for doing _your_ job.” He responded. Her wrinkled brow furrowed, but instead of rebuking him, she seemed to enter a meditative state for sanity.

Natsu’s bowl was soon empty, and he choked down his meager remains. It was then, that he felt the overwhelming presence. An intense throbbing filled his senses, as if whittling him down and sucking the breath out of his lungs. He was inferior, it was saying, insignificant against its power. It threatened to _crush_ him.

Fear made his hands shake. He had to get away. He had to get away, or he was going to _die_. He struggled to keep upright, to not collapse at his seat. Why was everyone acting so normal, still languidly eating? They had to notice this pressure, this invisible force that was screaming for blood. Even Natsu leaned against him, sleepily rubbing her eyes without a care.

“Go. We have to go.” He wheezed and forced himself to stand up. He tried to drag his sister with him, but he couldn’t summon the strength to lift her.

“Nii-tan?” She yawned. “Stop bothering Natsu.”

They were all staring at him now, but it didn’t faze him. “Don’t look at me like that. Can’t you tell?! There’s something-” The pressure doubled, and he buckled under it. He fell to the floor, and he vaguely registered Natsu shaking him. Concern just washed over the nuns’ expressions, as a monotonous voice called out.

“Please, open up. Is anyone inside?”

It’s a monster, he could only think. But like in the ghost stories that he heard, the old bat left the table to foolishly allow the monster in. He couldn’t do anything to stop her. Another nun helped him to a sitting position, rubbing his back in an effort to calm him down, but he turned his focus on the approaching stranger.

He was a large man, his height rivaling the low roof’s. His features were as perfectly blank and smooth as a mountain’s face, and his body was enveloped by a dirty coat. There was a long sword at his side, and his hair was in a topknot. He was the source of that strange presence, which had somehow shut off. Out of relief, Shouya gasped and scrambled to his feet. He grabbed Natsu by the armpits, backing both of them into the nearest corner. He braced himself in front of her, ignoring the way she scratched at him.

“Nii-tan! Let Natsu go.”

“Be quiet.” He hissed.

The old bat introduced the stranger. “Children, this is Hiko-san. He just gave us a generous donation, and as such, he is our guest for the time being. Be on your best behavior.” She eyed Shouya, with confusion. “I must apologize, Hiko-san. They are all usually polite. Shouya-kun, what are you doing?”

“Doing what I do best. Protecting my sister.”

“There is nothing to be afraid of.” If anything, this perplexed her even more. It should have, with the rowdiest boy in the building suddenly cowed in the stranger’s presence. But he was still a boy, facing a monster.

The monster spoke again. “This kind of reaction isn’t uncommon, I tend to get that, but this is less than what I expected. I enter this place with the thickest bloodlust I can make, and only one kid has the sense for it. Worse than the last town.” His voice diminished to a mumble, as he pushed past the nun to flatly stare at Shouya. “Name?”

“None of your business.” He ignored Ren’s pointed gaze.

“Fine, it doesn’t matter. You’ll get a new one, as my successor to the sword style of Hiten Mitsurugi. I’m Hiko Seijuro the twelfth, but you will refer to me as ‘Master’. Ren-san, was it? I mentioned just now that I was searching for an apprentice. I’ve made my decision. This one will do, even if he is rude.”

The old bat blinked. “Hiko-san, are you saying you’ll adopt them?”

“No, just the boy. I don’t care about the girl, she can stay here.”

Things were moving far too quickly, and he had to protest. “I’m not leaving. Not if Natsu and I are separated. I won’t leave her alone.”

“I am uncertain that he will go. He would have a good future, as an apprentice, but he is loyal to his sister. I doubt he’ll choose to become a swordsman.” Ren said.

“Oh, I think he will.” His tone suddenly bore an edge, and his hand fell to the hilt of his sword. The pressure returned, not as strongly as before, but Shouya flinched. The monster leaned closer, to whisper in a single, sour breath. “Or I’ll do it by force. I don’t make exceptions for women and children. However, if you follow me out, no one will be hurt. There’s only one choice here, and you will decide in the next thirty seconds.”

“Nii-tan.” Natsu whimpered and tugged at his shirt.

He gritted his teeth. _This bastard!_ “Then, I’ll go.” He would, but not peacefully. If he was spirited away by this monster, he’d escape somehow, back to Natsu. He’d fight this master of whatever, if it came to that.

“Right away, Hiko-san?” It was about time for the old bat’s suspicion. “Absolutely not. It is far too late for Shouya-kun to be traveling anywhere, and I have not finalized anything with you. I will gladly discuss the details with you in the morning. For now, we will bid you good night.”

The monster agreed, promising to return at dawn. As soon as he left, the head nun reached out to Shouya. “Shouya-kun, come with me. Everyone else, it is time to sleep.”

While the rest began to gossip, he followed her to the donation box. When she opened it, he was shocked at the amount of coins. “Did he rob a bank?”

“If he did, we would not accept the money. He claimed that these are a fraction of his earnings, from working for the surrounding villages. He was quite serious.” The old bat mused. “This could last us through summer, and he pledged to make you his apprentice. It is not a bad offer by any means.”

 _It was coercion, not an offer._ He thought but commented. “You’re selling me.”

He had expected her to scold him and deny it. However, she reeled back as if she had been struck. “Is that what you think?” She paused, to collect herself. “No, perhaps I should have expected your reaction. But I will not regret anything, if it means that it ensures your survival. Do you understand? We cannot always take care of you, and we cannot guarantee you a future. Hiko-san will.”

“And what about Natsu?”

She deflected. “A few of the nuns were raised in orphanages. That path will be open to your sister, if she chooses. In any case, I am finished and you may go to bed. Hiko-san is ready to apprentice you, and he does not seem inclined to a refusal. Most likely, it is the last night you spend here. I am sorry, that this is all the time you have left with us.” She really did sound sorrowful, but he couldn’t reply to that, not when he was thinking of how to undermine this whole plan. He said something like ‘good night’, before retreating.

He briefly considered running. If the monster showed up and he wasn’t there, it would work out. But the monster could and probably would kill everyone else. It wasn’t as if he was particularly attached, but he hated the possibility. Even if they all left, they’d be slow and clumsy in the forest. The monster would have an advantage, if he chased after them. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, he had to leave with the monster tomorrow.

He stepped into the large communal bedroom, maneuvering through the darkness and the other futons. There was quiet chatter, and he heard his name more than once, but he ignored it to flop next to Natsu. To his surprise, she was awake and pushed the blanket towards him. “Here.”

He countered the movement. “Take it, you’re going to keep this blanket for a while. Make sure no one steals it from you, while I’m gone.”

“Natsu doesn’t want it.”

“You said you did, earlier today.”

“Not anymore. Shouya can have it, so stay.”

“I told you, it’s nii-san. Ouch!” She had thrown herself over his stomach, and he recoiled. “Stay on your side, or I’ll toss you.”

“Nii-tan won’t.” He never had, and she knew it. “Don’t go.”

“I have to, so deal with it. And don’t cry. If you cry, I won’t come back.”

There was silence.

“Don’t cry.” He repeated, a warning in his voice. “Idiot.”

She warbled. “Not crying.”

“Then why do you sound like that?”

“Natsu _isn’t_ crying.”

“You are.” His teasing was apparently too much, because she whacked his ribs. A starburst of pain followed.

“Meanie.”

“Yeah, right. You’ll miss me.” He poked her side, but she didn’t move.

“Natsu will be a good girl and wait.”

Somehow, it was hard to swallow. His lip curled. “Just eat all your food. I won’t be around to feed you or stop the others. Now, get off me and go to sleep.”

She obeyed, and he let her take most of the blanket. “Good night.”

“Night.” He grunted. That was the longest night in his life.

At dawn, he slipped away. He had to pry her fingers from his shirt, hoping that she wouldn’t wake up. She didn’t, not even when he allowed himself to affectionately pat the top of her head.

The monster was waiting outside. “And here he is.” It seemed the discussion with the old bat was finished, and he glanced at her. She gave an affirmative nod. Go on, it meant.

“I wouldn’t forget.” He then addressed the old bat. “Goodbye.”

“May you travel safely.” She murmured, inclining her head. “Goodbye, Shouya-kun.”

He willed himself not to look back.

The first hour on the road was spent in silence. He had to concentrate, avoiding the dips and bumps, and lengthen his stride to keep up with the monster. “How long will this take?” He finally asked.

“How long will this take, _Master_. If you can’t show proper respect, I’ll be deaf until you adjust your behavior, starting with what you said. Let me hear it.” The last was a command.

“How long are we going to walk, Master?” He bit out.

“Until we arrive at my home. You will be living there as well, Thirteen. Yes, that is you. Why? Because you’ll be the thirteenth master of Hiten Mitsurugi, and at that time, you will inherit the name of Hiko Seijuro. ‘Shouya’ is another person now, an orphan without any prospects, and that is not who you are. As symbolic as it is to discard your former identity, it would be pointless to bestow a new name, so I won’t give you one.” The entire time, his voice didn’t change inflection. “Understand, Thirteen?”

He didn’t reply. Then, he was grabbed by the neck and shoved forward. He stumbled over his own feet and gave a shout.

“I asked you a question. Those nuns might have tolerated your rudeness, but you are my apprentice. I’m not patient either. I demand only respect and that you don’t tarnish the name of Hiten Mitsurugi. Now, try again, Thirteen.”

“Understood, Master.” Even his mind was subdued, unwilling to use ‘monster’ any longer. He hadn’t accepted being ‘Thirteen’, but obeying Master to lull him into a false sense of security was more important.

His initial inquiry was answered by time. They stopped only once to eat, but aside from that priceless break, it was a continuous, agonizing walk. It was early evening, when Master halted. There was no gate, because the forest was a natural barrier. The clearing was tighter than the orphanage’s, but the building was also much smaller. It was a pathetic hut, composed of two windowless rooms as he soon found out. Master pushed him into the more cramped one.

“Get your rest. We begin your training in the morning, Thirteen.” He didn’t wait for the obligatory ‘understood, Master’, before closing the door. Master’s shadow settled on the other side and didn’t move again, barring the only route to escape.

He slept fitfully on the lumpy futon, and he felt irritable when Master dragged him out. It was a chilly morning. He had to resist sneezing as Master spoke.

“Before we begin, you must know this. Hiten Mitsurugi is used to benefit the people, not the government or anyone with authority. They have power, and that only leads to corruption. As long as you wield a sword of this school, you will remain neutral. In due time, I will elaborate the rest of the teachings, but that is the foremost tenet. Understood, Thirteen?”

“Understood, Master.” He mumbled.

“Good. Mountain asparagus stems, windflower leaves, field garlic, and fern tops. Find them and bring them here.”

“What? Master?” He belatedly added.

“Those are wild vegetables.” He proceeded to explain what they looked like. “I will know if you stray, so keep on task. This is a test of maneuvering. Knowledge of the terrain is essential, if you want to succeed. Don’t return unless you have gathered enough to fill this basket.” Master pointed to a woven container with a fraying edge.

Cursing Master in his mind, he picked up the basket and set out. This wasn’t difficult at all. At the orphanage, he and Natsu had run through the woods to hunt for chestnuts. Once, they tried to catch a squirrel; he had been a hand span away, but a hawk had snatched the creature. Anyway, mountain vegetables were no different. He snapped off leaves and stems, dug up the garlic bulbs, and plucked off the fern tops. If he thought of running, he quashed it. He could vaguely feel that monstrous bloodlust, prickling behind him. It was past noon, when the basket was full.

Master sorted through, his blank features showing emotion at last. Unfortunately, that was disgust. “This isn’t windflower, it’s wolfsbane. You should have been more discerning. Or are you trying to poison your master?”

“No, but they matched the description.” The toxic leaves were tossed his way, and he stepped to avoid them. He went hungry that evening. Master didn’t use his own body as a barricade again, but this time, the front door was obstructed by a length of rope.

The following days were hellish. He was given a piece of bamboo, to practice his grips and swings until his hands were raw and his shoulders protested. His memorization of the stances had to be precise, without fail. When it came to kenjutsu, Master wasn’t stoic. He expected perfection at every minute, snapping at every mistake.

“Did you forget already, Thirteen?” He intoned, ignoring the way his apprentice gasped for breath. “Your turn should be smooth, or the enemy will cut you in half if you falter. Do it again, but faster.” Always faster, always stronger. Always not enough. Always do it again. There was no praise or kind words from that impassive face.

A month later, there was a stroke of luck: the rope wasn’t put in place. It was out of negligence, because Master had given him an earful for slacking on his footwork. That night, the opportunity for escape kept his eyes wide. In the early hours while Master was asleep, he made a run for it. He took his bamboo stick with him, tracing the path in his mind. The sun hadn’t pulled itself off the horizon yet, and at this rate, it would be sunset when he returned to Natsu. It didn’t matter. He had enough of Master and his belittling attitude. His trip was accelerated, thanks to a cart of hay he snuck into. The sight of familiar roads was his cue to jump out. He launched himself into the welcoming woods, sprinting closer and closer to the orphanage.

The smell hit him first. Liquid iron, the violent stench of something spoiled, and the cloying sweetness of decay underneath. The nausea threatened to slow him down, but he pinched his nose and kept going. Then, he stopped.

The orphanage’s walls were completely gone. Only the framework was left, and it was battered, as if by many swords. Blood pooled in the grass around it. In the middle of the horror, there was a pile of dirt, so haphazard it revealed the topmost remains. The edge of a threadbare robe, wispy hair, a slack face that belonged to the old bat, and a recognizable blanket draped over her. It would have smelled like him and Natsu, but he couldn’t bring himself to approach the old bat’s body and confirm it. Whatever strength he had left him. His knees buckled, his torso fell forward. Everything was gone. The old bat was dead, who else was? The other nuns? The thief Atsushi? The rest of them? His _sister_ -

“Do you see, Thirteen? There’s no place for you to return to.” That cursed monotone sounded too close for his liking. “It must have been a passing gang of thugs. There was nothing to be done, so accept it. Go ahead and cry all you want. It won’t change anything.”

His fingernails dug into the torn earth, and a hard knot formed in his stomach. He wanted to vomit, to scream, to release the pain and emptiness. But above all, he felt empty, because he only had one obligation in his short life and he couldn’t even fulfill that. If Master hadn’t taken him away, he could have saved Natsu. He could have carried her on his back, like he always did, and ran to safety. Instead, he lost her, because Master had forced him into this apprenticeship. “I _hate_ you.”

“Then, hate me. Hate me and become strong. You can lessen this world’s suffering, if you’re strong enough.”

“With Hiten Mitsurugi.”

“That’s right. If you’re finished, we’ll continue your training from where we left off. Unless, you decide to give up and die where you’re crawling right now. Join your sister in the dirt, and be weak. I don’t care either way.”

He didn’t know, if it was loathing or resignation that made him pick up his feet and follow Master back to that wretched house.

* * *

 

At this point, he paused. “I’ll skip ahead, about seven years. Those events would be more interesting, than hearing about how I inherited Hiten Mitsurugi.”

“Please, don’t. I want to know the good as well as the bad. I did the same with you.” She reminded him. Her shoulders were set, and there was only resolve in her eyes. “You told me about Natsu-san and I’m honored to hear of her, but nevertheless, it is _your_ story that you’re sharing. As much as my curiosity’s been satisfied, it’s interesting to hear about your life. I’m interested.” She corrected herself. “Even if you did suffer, I’m certainly not one to judge. So, I hope you don’t hold anything back.”

Damn it, this was why it was a terrible idea to fall in love with her.

This time, he refilled his cup of hot sake, before admitting. “In the end, the student has to complete two tasks. Perfect the final technique, and kill the previous master with it.”

For a moment, the only noise was the crackle of the fire. “Hiko-san. Then, that means-”

“That tradition didn’t change with me. When I was seventeen, I fought Master for the last time.”

Inwardly, he wondered if she’d regret her earlier speech. From here on, there would only be suffering to tell.


	25. Mochi

Tae glanced over at the man sitting next to her. Hiko-san was a swordsman, she had known that from the start, but killing one’s master was unheard of. The samurai treasured loyalty to those in authority, even dying for it. And yet, Hiten Mitsurugi defied that.

“It seems like a terrible thing to do, for the student.” She said.

“Hiten Mitsurugi has a long past, dating to the Sengoku era. Its strength was feared on the battlefield, and so it had to be culled. The practice started to stop it from shedding more blood than necessary. The original intention was to protect the people, after all.” He knocked back the remnants of his cup. “I’ll spare you, so I won’t be graphic about it.”

“One more thing.” She interjected. “So if the student kills the master, then that means Kenshin-”

“The short answer is yes. As for the long answer, you’ll have to wait but I know you’re impatient.” There was that smirk again, and it cut the somber mood.

“Of course, I can wait.” Despite the needling concern, she smiled. Then, through his voice, the following scenes seemed to unfold before her.

* * *

In the years that followed, his training was devoted to becoming stronger. Master sparred with him often, testing his reflexes and speed. If he was too slow, he was hit with a thick branch. As he progressed, iron weights were attached to his calves and upper arms. The smell of rust was in every breath, his movements were strained, and still, Master was relentless. It was brutal, and the breaks were occupied by Master’s drone about the tenets of Hiten Mitsurugi. His sword was old and chained to its filthy scabbard, until he was fifteen. By then, the iron weights didn’t feel as heavy and he was able to recite the full past of the school.

Training was also a tool, to keep his mind off the past. When he thought of Natsu, a sense of deep numbness would overcome him. To shake it off, it felt like he had to drag himself out of the nearby river, and he would be admonished for being slow during sparring.

“If you are not focused, Thirteen,” Master repeated this favorite sentiment with relish. “your blade will falter and you will be cut down. Or are you still eager to die?”

This would invigorate him, dispelling his dark mood so that he could prove Master wrong. He wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction. His pride was the only thing he had left, and that was something he would never surrender.

Occasionally, people would send in requests, by breathless messenger or hastily written letter. As expected, the requests were for the strength of a sword, to eliminate another. Master had taken the neutrality of Hiten Mitsurugi very seriously and rejected most of the offers. The exceptions were for troublemaking ronin or bandits, and it was only then that Master brought him out of the forest.

He wasn’t allowed to kill his opponents, and it was only then that his katana was chained to its sheath. Master consistently delivered the finishing blows, with an emotionless efficiency. Both of them were always splattered with blood by the end, but the work was useful. The criminals moved slower, enough so that he could practice hitting their nine points of defense. He had to be, to defeat Master’s attacks.

It sunk in one afternoon, that he had surpassed Master. He had initially thought it was Master’s age finally getting to him, slowing his strikes and leaving openings during their spars. But when another request to subdue a gang was accepted, the seasoned ronin weren’t even a match for Master.

Master had not become weaker; _he_ had become stronger. He was taller and just as fast, and at the height of his youth. And when he broke through Master’s _kuzuryuusen_ , Master realized it too.

“You’ve done well, Thirteen.” That was the only compliment he had received, although it was watered down with the torrent of instruction that followed. Most of it was old information, about the meaning of inheriting Hiten Mitsurugi, that it wasn’t just about wearing a coat and carrying a sword. He had been wondering what the point was, when Master finally said. “You’re ready to inherit the final technique.” Then, he had thrown off his coat and charged with that monstrous bloodlust. That immense pressure had sealed his fate in the orphanage, and the feeling of certain death almost buckled him.

Almost.

He wasn’t going to die. He would not die. He had been alive for seventeen years, and this was no time for his life to end. He would live, even if only to spite fate, and willed himself to _move_. He struck, and the blade cut deep.

Master had looked at him, and something gave in his expression. “Hiko Seijuro XIII. It was an honor to teach you.” And at last, he fell.

* * *

“That must have been difficult.” Tae murmured. “To realize that you ended his life.”

“As you can tell, we weren’t that close.” Hiko-san snorted. “I was sorry that I had to kill him, but he accepted death, and I respected that.”

She propped her chin on one hand. “I wonder if he felt sad at all. Yes, he was cruel to you, but he did have a sense of justice. He seemed like a complex person, and perhaps, he was unkind to you so that you wouldn’t be attached to him.”

She half expected him to retort, but he was somber. “I’ve considered it. Anyway, after burying him, I tore down the house and rebuilt it.”

“For what reason…?”

“I had nothing else to do, and I wanted to prove that I could.”

“So it really wasn’t a symbolic gesture?”

He laughed, and it was refreshing, after how serious he had been so far. “Not completely. When I was a teenager, I wasn’t thinking nearly as deeply. I was focused on learning how to survive on my own.”

“I assume that didn’t quite work out.”

“And why do you think that?”

“Well, you would have started a brewery.” She cheerfully answered. “And because you buy your sake, you must have earned money somehow, before becoming Ni’itsu-san.”

This time, he laughed even louder. “See, that’s what I like about you.”

“Excuse me?” Sudden warmth crept up her face. It was probably the liquor in his system talking, although he wasn’t even tipsy yet…

He shook his head, dismissing her. “Fine, I’ll tell you about the work. I was about to get to that part.”

* * *

When the name of Hiko Seijuro XIII had settled on him and the house was finished, he was inundated with requests. He needed the money; he couldn’t eat only mountain vegetables and mushrooms, like Master had. Besides, what else was he going to do? He had no other purpose in his life. So when a request came to execute a few criminals in a nearby village, he didn’t turn the offer down.

It was to keep the peace, he told himself, and it wasn’t as if he was defying the teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi. These men had taken advantage of the weak and they deserved death, no matter how much they screamed at him. He didn’t have to bury them, the village took care of that messy task, but he would have done it if it meant he could be left alone. The headman was one of the worst kinds of people: overbearing.

“You’re returning tomorrow, we’ll have a meal in your honor. Hiten Mitsurugi has done many great things for us over the years.” The headman insisted, while giving Hiko his payment. “My wife and I will be expecting you before sunset.”

“I have other plans.” Or rather, he’d make them as soon as possible.

“Then, cancel them.”

In the end, he needed more work from the headman, so he attended. He still hated it. The only one who was enjoying himself was the headman. His wife was very quiet, barely moving her long sleeves. If it weren’t for her occasional meek suggestion to refill their cups, he would have forgotten her altogether. There were no children in the house, so there was nothing to distract from the awkwardness of it all. On and on, the headman talked about the village’s successes and how it fared under his leadership.

It wasn’t the last he saw of them. The headman’s requests were frequent and lucrative, so he could only grit his teeth while accepting. He endured, even as the headman led him on a tour of the rice fields and chattered about the quality of the crops. When he finally extricated himself, he bought a jug of sake. He did feel conspicuous, bending close to the stall to complete his purchase, but the crowd of workers and shoppers ignored him.

Except for one person. A laborer was staring at him, and he was about to turn away when the man shouted. “Shouya, is that you?!”

His old name made him flinch. How did that man know? The only people who would have were long dead. Unless…

The man stepped closer, looking nervous. “Ah, well, it’s been so long, but I’m Atsushi. Do you remember?”

The thief who kept stealing from Natsu’s bowl. “Yes.” It was as if his voice came from the bottom of a well. “You’re alive?”

Atsushi blinked. “Oh, that’s right. You were taken away before that happened. I guess you know the orphanage was attacked by a gang, but only the nuns were killed. The children were given to slavers. I can only work like this, so that’s why-”

“What about my sister?” He demanded.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in years. The girls were separated from the boys early on. She’s probably in a brothel or something.”

That didn’t help his mood, but if Natsu was alive, he could find her. He could _find her_. “Tell me the route the slavers used. Right now.”

“Good grief, it’s been so long…” Atsushi grumbled, but managed to give some information.

Over the next few months, he followed the winding roads of the Kansai region. At first, he wasn’t sure who to ask for. It had been twelve years, and it was very likely that she went by another name. He tried mentioning the orphanage and his first name, but no one seemed to know. There were women in the brothels who said they had been sold, but they didn’t recognize the details of the past he and Natsu shared.

In early winter, he had somehow ended up in Hida. He was weary and uncertain that he was going the right way. Could the slavers have gone this far north? Or had he somehow missed her in a previous village? This town wasn’t the friendliest, or maybe, that was due to the cold air. Everyone had their heads down, save for a group of children playing tag. He captured their attention with a bag of loose change.

“I’m looking for someone. Can you brats help me?”

They giggled amongst themselves and their ‘whispering’ was loud enough for him to hear. “Natsuko-nee isn’t even as tall as he is.”

Natsuko? If she had been adopted, they might have added a character to her name. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. “That’s close enough. Where does she live?” They pointed him in the direction of a distant farm, and he let them fight over the measly coins before heading off.

As he walked down the road, he took in his surroundings. The house was small and new, and he heard the faint sound of a river beyond. The clouds had just moved, spilling weak sunshine around him. Then, the house’s front door opened. It was a man, and Hiko was out of his range of vision. He was shuffling out, rubbing his hands together. He was too young to be an adoptive father to a teenage girl, but the role of ‘older sibling’ would have suited him.

That guess quickly changed, when someone else opened the door.

She was a young woman, her hair in a neat bun, and she was just as tall as the man. Her features would have been angular but they were softer than Hiko’s; there were no worry lines on her face and she had been well fed. “Dear, you forgot to take the mochi again.” She handed the man a cloth-wrapped bundle.

“Thank you. Keep warm, alright?” The man glanced up, noticing Hiko at last. “Good afternoon. Can we help you?”

It had been so long, but now, he was sure. “I was told that someone named ‘Natsuko-nee’ lives here.”

“That’s me.” She answered, frowning a little. “But, you are?”

“I told you I’d come back, Natsu. I’m sorry I’m late.”

There was a long pause. A brisk wind blew, and Natsuko blinked rapidly. “Nii…san?” She slowly asked, and when he nodded, her eyes lit up. “Nii-san, it’s really you!”

In that moment, her smile had made it all worth it.

* * *

Tae found herself smiling too, even though she knew better. In the end, Natsuko was in a Kyoto cemetery, far away from Hida. But Hiko-san had relaxed while telling her of that fateful reunion. He didn’t seem to be aware of the fond half-smile on his face, but she didn’t want to bring attention to it. She wanted to carve that expression into her memory, because that kind of true happiness was better than gold.

“So you found ‘summer’ in winter.” She wryly noted the meaning of his sister’s name. “And she remembered you. I’m glad to hear that it was easy, to reconnect with her. It isn’t always like that with family, especially since you had been separated for that long. But you weren’t nervous, I suppose.”

“Of course not.” Then, he added. “However, I didn’t expect her to be married.”

She thought for a moment. “Well, she was…seventeen, so that was about the right age. Still, I don’t blame you. It wouldn’t have sunk in at first, the sister who once rode on your back having a life of her own.”

“That’s right. But at least she had one.” He closed his eyes as he drank his warm sake. “Are you tired?”

“Me? No, it’s not even three hours until midnight. But if you’d like to stop talking, I understand. We can pick up again tomorrow-”

“No. I might as well say it all now. If I wanted to stop, I would have said so directly. It’s only that it’s been a long day for you. You were at the cemetery this morning, probably before I was there.”

Oh, that was right. It seemed like that moment had happened in a different era. “It’s fine, Hiko-san, I’m used to it. I’m completely awake, so please, go on.”

“Feel free to stop me at any time.” But he smirked. “Then…”

* * *

Natsuko had hurriedly prepared tea and mochi for him, urging him to sit at the table. Her husband, Yoshiro, had offered to give them some time alone and left for the fields. Hiko didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He felt like an intruder, in this house meant for newlyweds.

His sister sat opposite from him, and he didn’t expect the first words she said. “I thought you had forgotten about me.”

“As if I could forget my own family. Idiot.”

“I am not an idiot.” She chided but laughed. “You haven’t changed, nii-san.”

“ _You_ did. No more lisp, I see. And here you are, all settled down. Is your husband good to you?”

She beamed. “He is. We have a very quiet life. The farm’s done well, but it hasn’t even been a year. We don’t have a well yet, we just get water from the river. Hopefully, when the ground isn’t so hard in spring, we can have one. And by that time…” She trailed off, glancing downwards.

“It’s true, it’s better to wait.”

She huffed. “Can’t you take a hint? By spring, Yoshiro and I are going to have a baby.”

“Is that what you meant? I thought you snuck yourself a few extra mochi.” She was barely showing, but a small part of him wanted to deny it. In his memories, his sister was still a child, and it was difficult to adjust his thinking.

“You’re mean.” But she said it without force. “I was even thinking about naming the baby ‘Shoukichi’, if it’s a boy. After Uncle Shouya, of course.”

“I don’t go by that name now.” He simplified the tale for her, purposely avoiding the part about killing Master. “But you can name the baby however you like. You’re the mother, after all.”

“I am.” There was a flash of pride in her gaze, and it was different from when she got her own way as a child. She had something to live for, and that gave her a new strength. She looked wiser, yet unfamiliar.

He coughed. “Speaking of names, what about yours, Natsuko?”

“Well, after you left, the orphanage was attacked. I don’t really remember, but I was taken in by an elderly couple, who needed a pair of hands. They were potters, and I made some things too, like this tea set.”

“Really?” He inspected his cup with increased scrutiny. It was flawless, the rim smooth and the glaze even. “It’s good.”

“Thank you.”

“Why don’t you start a side business, to support your husband?”

“We don’t have that much money. I can’t spend any extra on clay and paint, and there aren’t many customers who will buy from a woman.” She sighed. “Don’t look like that, nii-san. I won’t have the time either, I’ll need all the sleep I can get.”

He didn’t like that answer, but couldn’t disagree. Natsuko had moved on, to telling him about her life in the past years. The elderly couple had taken a liking to her and adopted her, adding the ‘ko’ character to her name as they had with their grown daughters. They had passed away last year, after finalizing her engagement to their neighbors’ grandson, Yoshiro. She had only been faintly acquainted with him before, but she quickly learned to like him. He was steady, she said, and she liked the idea of a lifetime with him. When dusk came and Yoshiro returned, Hiko excused himself.

“Are you sure? We can make room for you, it’s no trouble.” Natsuko pleaded.

“No, I have work to do.” He was being honest. The requests would have accumulated, and now, he needed the money, to support his sister and her growing family.

“Then, take some mochi. If you starve on the way back, I’ll never forgive you, nii-san.” That made him laugh, as she wrapped the rice cakes for him.

“I’ll come back if I can, so goodbye for now.” He bowed and Yoshiro returned the gesture.

“Have a safe journey. We’ll welcome you anytime, nii-san.”

“I don’t remember taking care of a sibling like you.” He cracked a grin while Natsuko called him mean, but Yoshiro took it in good stride and conceded as much.

When he left, he looked back to see their waving figures. He allowed himself to lift a hand in response.

* * *

This time, Hiko-san was the one who stopped. “Is it that hard, for women? Having their own businesses?”

Tae nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes. Even when I had enough money, it took me months to get the land. There were half a dozen places where the Akabeko could have been, but the owners always gave the contracts to other men. Sometimes, those men didn’t have any culinary experience. Then, after I opened up, more tried to talk me out of it, saying that the work was too much for me to handle. As if I didn’t grow up like that! The worst part was when they spread rumors, that my cooking was too modern and not suitable enough. That was why I was grateful for Kamiya-san’s help. I thought that was the end of it, but the rebuilding of the Akabeko was delayed because of men again. My restaurant wasn’t prioritized during its construction, and I was pressured to sell it off. We waited so long and I had to let go of most of the staff, but I had Tsubame-chan and Yahiko-kun, and the little ‘Beko cart. We scraped by; I’m only glad it didn’t take more than two years. It is very hard, to make a living.”

She clamped her hand over her mouth. _Oh, dear. That just all came out, didn’t it?_

He raised his eyebrows at her. “That’s how it is, isn’t it? And yet, you persevered.”

“I did, despite everything.” She had meant to be dignified, but unconsciously, she had been riled up by those memories of unfairness. She shivered slightly and folded her arms together.

Hiko-san noticed. “Here, have some sake.”

“Only a cup.” She relented and was glad that her hand didn’t shake as she accepted the drink. She took a sip, then another.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He was subdued, seemingly deep in thought. “There isn’t much left to tell, but you would have needed that drink anyway.”

Natsuko had been pregnant, and Hiko-san had not mentioned her child’s fate. She didn’t dare to ask, because she could only think of her nephew in that baby’s stead and feared the worst. “I see. Do you need a moment?”

“I’ll take it.” He lowered his head, as if bearing the weight of what he knew. Her heart went out to him, and she reached over to lay a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but her fingertips pressed a little firmer.

“It’s alright, Hiko-san. Take as long as you need.”

“Sekihara…” He was about to say more but didn’t.

They stayed like that for another minute, and Tae chose to clear her mind. No matter what he would say, he had decided to share it with her, and she was prepared to hear it. She was prepared to accept his pain. When Hiko-san straightened and announced that he was ready to continue, she was reluctant to move her hand away.


	26. Shochu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: character deaths and a mention of attempted suicide.

“Let’s get this over with.” Hiko said, and the words tasted bitter. A strange calmness had overcome him; he had to make the most of it. He had lost his composure earlier, and while Sekihara’s touch had been helpful, it would be embarrassing to mention it. Otherwise, his mind would twist it into something it wasn’t, and this wasn’t the time for idiocy. Instead, he cleared his throat. “I left off on the first visit.”

“The first?” She repeated. “So you visited often?”

“Only twice after that, because Natsuko insisted. Then, the snow was too much for me to travel.”

“That’s understandable.” She sipped from her cup of warm sake. “How long did you have, before…?”

“Five months.”

She blinked in alarm. “That’s all?! But…no, I’ll let you tell the rest, Hiko-san. Please, go on.”

As much as he wanted to jump into that horrifying moment and be finished with it, he couldn’t. “You’ll have to wait. I have to tell you the reason, why I wasn’t in Hida in the spring.”

* * *

Over the winter, Natsuko sent many letters. She was bored in the house, she wrote and enclosed sketches she had drawn by memory. There were landscapes of the fields, with Yoshiro’s silhouette, and the river bordered by tall rocky faces.

 _Look who paid a visit today. Cute, isn’t he?_ She had remarked, above her drawing of a fat sparrow.

 _That’s nice. Give me a portrait of you and Yoshiro._ He wrote.

Her reply smacked of embarrassment. _I will not, that’s way beyond my skills. I’m not confident enough, and when I’ve tried, I keep messing up. If you want a portrait, draw it yourself, nii-san!_

However, her next reply had his profile, etched in pencil. He kept it in his coat pocket, like a talisman.

Midwinter was brutal, because the ronin and bandits had become desperate with the growing cold, bullying their way into villages to ransack supplies. The first time Hiko killed one, it was an accident. The man was too thin and too reckless, for the strike not to be fatal. The headman insisted on paying Hiko extra, and he took it, thinking of a poor farmer’s house in Hida. The consequences soon unfolded. The meeker troublemakers ran off, deciding it was better to live until spring. But the stubborn ones grew arrogant, deciding that they could be crueler if they were going to be killed anyway.

And so, Hiko had no choice but to kill them on sight.

He resigned himself to it; it was less work than executing them in town. He was doing more than his master had, but did it matter? It wasn’t as if he was defying Hiten Mitsurugi. The headman gave him a job to patrol the area, but he fulfilled it to guarantee the people’s safety. Most of the money went to Natsuko and Yoshiro. She asked once, how he had earned it, and he replied that it was from assisting the villages. It wasn’t a lie, but a twinge of guilt came with her cheerful response.

Those letters gave him life. It was easy to slip into a state of apathy, as he cleaned his coat of splattered blood. He even named his katana, after the cold moon of those months. But when he received a new envelope, his fingers were eager and clumsy to open it. He felt alive, scanning his sister’s account of simple days on the farm and her sketches of a peaceful world. He felt like the older brother he was supposed to be.

However, after the snow melted, he didn’t depart. He had to be rational, and there was no way he could become a farmer. He was the sole user of Hiten Mitsurugi; he wasn’t quite willing to discard his sword. It was needed, and he needed a guiding purpose as much as the compensation. If he moved to Hida, he would only be a burden. Thus, he stayed near Kyoto.

April came, and the new letter wasn’t in Natsuko’s handwriting but Yoshiro’s. Natsuko had given birth to a son, and they were inviting Hiko for the shrine visit. His brother-in-law also apologized for no drawing of Shoukichi’s face, but it was incentive to see him in person. Hiko had smirked at that.

He had just mailed his reply, when he bumped into the headman’s wife. She fell to the ground, and he offered a hand to help her up. “Oh, didn’t see you. Here-”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Her refusal was agitated. When she ran off, her sleeve flapped in the wind. On her forearm, there was a circle of dark bruises.

The next day, the headman paid him. Usually, Hiko accepted it without fuss, but this time, he returned some of the money. “Did your wife injure herself? You can keep this much, for her recovery.”

The headman’s smile was stiff. “Oh, that’s kind but unnecessary. The money is yours, so please leave.”

That was suspicious, so he lingered in town until evening. It seemed nothing would happen, and he was about to rise from his place between two buildings, when two shadows stumbled past him. The taller one was the headman, dragging his wife by her bruised arm. They hadn’t noticed him, and he waited a few moments before following them.

They had stopped in one of the fields, and the muffled scream drew Hiko out. The headman had thrown his wife onto the ground. “Did you tell him, that swordsman? What makes you think you can talk to him? Huh? Or are you having an affair, you bitch, is that it?” There was a butchering knife in his hand, and he lifted it.

“Stop.” Hiko called out, and he grimaced at the scene before him. The wife’s mouth was bleeding, her collar flecked with red. One eye was swelling, and she winced as she turned her head. She looked pitiful. “That’s enough.”

“And why are you here? This is a personal matter.” The headman was trying to give that stiff smile again, but it was already too late to be pleasant.

“I don’t think so. My job is to protect the ones who can’t defend themselves. Those are the villagers, and that includes your wife.”

The headman scoffed. Then, he lunged for Hiko, the knife glinting in the moonlight. At that point, Hiko acted out of instinct. He unsheathed his katana, using the scabbard to knock the air out of the headman. The headman doubled over, wheezing at Hiko. “You hit me. You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I damn want, if it means you’ll be stopped.” He said, but he spoke too soon.

In the next instant, the headman sprinted for his wife. She weakly tried to crawl away, as he swung the knife in an arc meant for her. Hiko didn’t think at all, moving forward and thrusting his katana into the headman’s skull. He would remember that for weeks, how the metal sliced through the bone and sank completely through. With a wet sound, the body fell. For what seemed like an eternity, Hiko didn’t move again. But he couldn’t really regret it, because he had saved someone else.

“He’s dead.” Hiko said at last, glancing at the woman. To his surprise, she began to cry. Her tears weren’t out of happiness, and he reluctantly added. “Don’t worry about him, he can’t abuse you any longer. You’re free from him.”

“And where would I go?” Her eyes were empty, and before he could stop her, she took the knife from her husband’s limp hand and slashed it across her neck.

* * *

He paused, and Sekihara spoke. “That was a tragic thing, but you meant well, even if it ended badly.”

“The intention didn’t matter. In the end, two people were dead, and I was blamed for it.” He folded his arms. “My mistake was letting him, someone in power, dictate my work. It blinded me to what was happening to his wife. The signs were there, if I had looked closer.”

That subdued her, but she asked. “Did you remember her, when you helped Hatsu-san?”

“I didn’t want her to become as broken as that woman was. That’s all.” He gave a careless shrug.

“I see.” Sekihara smiled. “So, what happened after that?”

He was glad his tone was nonchalant. “I started a minor political crisis, so I needed some distance.”

* * *

He left for Hida. He had to get away, and he was tempted by the comfort of Natsuko’s little family. Besides, Shoukichi deserved to meet his uncle. He walked through forests and over the mountains, bracing himself when a distant landslide shook the ground. But he kept moving, dispelling the exhaustion by imagining the faces he’d soon see.

He realized something was wrong, when he mentioned his destination at an inn he passed and received strange looks. “What is it?” He demanded.

“You didn’t know?” The innkeeper tentatively inquired. “Surely, didn’t you feel it?”

It suddenly clicked. “That landslide was an earthquake in Hida?” Immediately, he ran. Some small part of him had hoped that her village had been untouched, but that shattered when he saw the river. The tall rocky faces had crumbled, and what had once been a broad stripe of clear water was now a slim trickle of mud. Beyond that, his brother-in-law’s fields were torn and eerily silent.

“Natsuko! Natsuko!” He shouted, over and over as he hurried to his sister’s house. For an agonizing moment, he didn’t want to believe his own eyes. The roof had caved in, the beams had snapped. But perhaps, she had gotten out in time, he desperately thought. Then, there was a baby’s cry. Hiko dove into the rubble, and he heard a tiny voice ask.

“Nii-san?”

“Natsuko! Can you breathe?” He grunted, lifting a large board out of the way. He forced his arms to work faster, to free his sister and the newborn.

“A little. Shoukichi…is fine. He’s a small baby…there’s enough space.” At last, he saw her head. There was a large cavity, where the roof had collapsed above the threshold, and her shoulders were huddled into it. The bundle in her arms was wailing louder, and she shook as she lifted her son. “Here…take him. His forehead…got hit.”

He gingerly accepted the baby. There was a slight scrape on his nephew’s forehead, but he seemed fine. “Okay, I’ve got him. Now, I’ll help you out.”

“No.” She sharply exhaled. “Take Shoukichi…away first.”

“It shouldn’t take that long-” He stopped. He could only see her from the waist up. “Natsuko, what about your legs?”

“It’s alright…I can’t even…feel them.”

“Shit, you know that’s bad!” He yelled. He tucked Shoukichi into a spared cart, before proceeding to free his sister. Her strength was fading, and he kept talking to her. “You’ve been waiting, I know, but you have to hold on. Shoukichi needs his mother, you hear? I can’t stop his crying, but you will, just as soon as I get you out. So if you give up now, you’d be a real idiot, got that? Wait a little longer, Natsuko!”

It might have taken twenty minutes, but it felt like much longer. She had been so damn close to leaving the doorway…if only he had been there. Now, he had to remove the last of the roof from her body. Her legs were a blood-soaked mess. They had been crushed, and her organs were probably damaged. Somehow, he managed to lift her into the cart, although her eyes rolled back from the pain. She held the baby, as he pushed the cart into town.

“I’ve got you, Natsuko. Hang in there!” He barked out.

His sister was too weak to cry properly. Tears leaked from her eyes, as Shoukichi’s thin wail enveloped them. She tried to speak. “Yoshiro? The river…he went there…for water…”

He remembered the fallen rocks, the dead river. “I’ll look for him later.” He evaded. “You and Shoukichi need a doctor first.”

The other villagers had suffered just as much, but when they realized that Natsuko and her son had survived, they mobilized and helped Hiko to the tent where the doctor was treating patients. Yoshiro wasn’t in sight, and she figured it out quickly. “No! No, you have to look for him! He was by the river, he could be in trouble! Someone…”

From outside, Hiko heard her screams of despair and Shoukichi’s frustrated crying.

The baby was bandaged and stayed with another family. Meanwhile, Natsuko remained in the tent. The doctor told him there was nothing to be done, except ease her pain until the time came. Her spine was severed and already, she had a fever from infection. Hiko hated to see her fight a losing battle, but he resolved to make her happy. It didn’t work, because when he approached with her medicine, her expression twisted.

“I don’t want it, I heard everything. That medicine won’t help, not now and not ever.” She said and turned her head away. “Leave me alone. I’m in so much pain, I can’t even think. Please, nii-san.” The last was a sob, and it echoed in his mind.

The next day, he arrived with the painkillers. “Natsuko, take it.”

“I told you, no.” Her breaths were short.

“Trust me. It will help this time. I know, I took more than enough.” He showed her the dose, how much it really was. It was enough to accomplish what she wanted, and she understood.

“You have to promise me, nii-san.” She reached for his hand. “Promise that you’ll raise Shoukichi. You can make him a swordsman, or a farmer, so long as he stays with you. He’ll be a good child, definitely.”

“Of course, since I’m his uncle.” He replied, grabbing her fingers. “He’ll thrive in Kyoto.”

“That too. Bury me in Kyoto.”

“Not here?”

“They haven’t found Yoshiro yet.” A stray tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “And when Shoukichi is bigger, I want him to visit me. If my grave’s in Kyoto, you can take him there.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that.” He had to swallow. “We’ll give you flowers every year, and the best sake. I’ll tell him the most embarrassing stories, like when you lost a tooth by tripping in the outhouse.”

Her laugh was more of a gasp, but it was worth it. She was smiling, as the medicine was poured down her throat. He didn’t let go of her hand, as she choked down the last of it. He didn’t let go, when she fell into a deep sleep and not even when her pulse slowed into nothing. He only did, when the doctor gently informed him that Shoukichi was crying. He gave her cool hand a last squeeze, and then he left.

He went home with Shoukichi in one arm and an urn of Natsuko’s ashes in the other. After the burial, he was alone with his nephew. The baby was too young, to have any visible trace of his parents. There might have been a little of Natsuko in his toothless smile, but that was idiotic to consider.

During the day, Hiko left his nephew with a woman who could nurse him, while he worked simple labor jobs. At night, Shoukichi slept in a basket next to Hiko’s futon. He was always hungry and fussy, but Hiko didn’t complain. Babies grew quickly, he knew that, and Shoukichi would be walking before long. Then, they would visit his mother’s grave together.

“Just don’t give me as much trouble as she did.” He told the baby. Shoukichi cooed, and his mouth ached with a smile.

But a week into Shoukichi’s stay, Hiko woke to a silent morning. That was odd, his nephew couldn’t have slept throughout the night. He frowned, peering into the basket. The baby was asleep, but…he felt so cold. Hiko listened for a heartbeat; there was none. Frantically, he wrapped up Shoukichi and headed for the nearest village. He barged into the sole clinic, glaring at the practitioner.

“You. You’re a doctor. Tell me what went wrong.” He bit out, offering the limp little body to the man.

He waited in agony, as the doctor inspected his nephew, and to no avail. The answer was that Shoukichi had just stopped breathing, in the middle of the night.

“It happens sometimes. You and your wife can have another child.” That doctor brusquely said.

He vaguely recalled scattering Shoukichi’s ashes onto Natsuko’s grave, but the rest was a drunken haze. He bought many bottles of shochu and drank under withering cherry blossoms. One by one, he finished them off. Eventually, he staggered inside, the taste of liquor sour in his mouth. He didn’t care.

Who wanted to live in a world, where earthquakes crushed people like ants and babies stopped breathing for no reason at all?

He finished off the last of the shochu, collapsed onto the floor, and waited to die.

* * *

Sekihara looked shocked and sad, as he expected. “Hiko-san…” She helplessly said and reached for him, but he shifted away. He wasn’t in the mood to be comforted.

“As you can see, it didn’t work. I met my idiot apprentice soon after.”

* * *

He didn’t die, although the brutal hangover made him wish otherwise. After his failed suicide, a dark cloud settled over him and sapped his energy. At the insistence of the villages, who evidently had short memories, he continued his killing patrol. It was a year later, when he met a boy with red hair. He didn’t intend to check on him at first, but civilian survivors were rare. Still, Hiko was surprised to see the boy digging graves. The boy had a soft heart, but he understood death and acknowledged it.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Shinta.”

He decided then and there, that this boy would be the one to end his miserable life. “That’s not a name for a swordsman. From now on, you’ll be Kenshin.” Ken, for the sword that the boy would have to carry from now on. Shin, for the past he couldn’t return to and for the heart that he’d need in the future, long after he killed Hiko.

And it was a better name than ‘Fourteen’, Hiko thought as the boy followed him out of the clearing.

To put it bluntly, his new apprentice was an idiot. He wet the bed, he ate the wrong mushrooms, he was exceedingly polite to strangers. He was small and weak, but a quick learner. His strange eyes seemed to absorb everything. He was quiet and Hiko didn’t want to talk, but in the noiseless winter, they were going to be driven crazy.

One afternoon, Hiko threw open the door. “Let’s go. We’re hunting for rabbits, to test your speed.” Maybe it was a lame exercise, but they had to get out of the damn house. His apprentice eagerly followed, with two strides for Hiko’s one.

“Ah, there.” His apprentice pointed to a small white rabbit in the distance.

“Good, then see if you can catch it.”

His apprentice ran, and his pacing was excellent. He would be fast in battle. Then, his foot caught onto a buried root. He fell headfirst, rolling down the slope. The rabbit had escaped, but his apprentice still searched around for it. Covered in snow and his eyes round, he looked like a rabbit himself. “Huh?”

For the first time in a while, Hiko laughed. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be so bad to live with him.

His apprentice really was an idiot, as he grew older. Those eyes that picked up Hiten Mitsurugi now turned to the suffering villagers. He wanted to fight, in the war that loomed over the horizon. The first time he ran away, Hiko marched after him and dragged him back by his short ponytail. The second time, the idiot returned on his own. Their arguments grew more heated. His apprentice didn’t understand, that Hiten Mitsurugi had to remain independent from power, even if it was to protect the people. The idiot could _not_ make the same mistake he had. Hiko almost told him about the incident years ago, but didn’t. He inevitably remembered who he had lost, and his tongue refused to move. He grew wearier, and after a nasty fight, his apprentice left again. He thought the idiot would return, but after a week, there was no sign of him. Hiko had torn up the countryside in his search, only to hear a whisper of a red demon who killed in the night.

He followed the rumors and discovered exactly what his idiot apprentice had done. He was angry, but the feeling quickly dissipated. The idiot had always been soft, so why was he surprised? Well, the only thing to do was to wait for the war to end. If the idiot survived, he’d come back. Hopefully.

The seasons turned over, one after another, and his apprentice did not return. He would have given up the idiot for dead, if he hadn’t visited Natsuko’s grave and noticed the tending of a certain grave in the same cemetery. He didn’t know enough about the woman to have an opinion, but he was only thankful that the smoldering incense was a sign that his apprentice was still alive. Then, after the Meiji era began, there was nothing. Doubt easily took over.

So, what was he going to do? Time had lessened the grief over Natsuko and her family, and he was no longer desperate to join them. In that case, there was no reason to take another apprentice, who would eventually kill him. And he needed to earn money.

In that moment, he thought of pottery.

* * *

 

“In memory of Natsuko-san.” Sekihara softly said, and he didn’t disagree.

“Yes, and that’s all of it.” He stood, gruffly motioning her inside. “You have your train in the morning, so good night, Sekihara.”

“Good night, Hiko-san.” She murmured. However, she paused before closing the door between them. “Oh, and I’m glad you told me. It must have been hard, I know it was for me. So, thank you.”

She gave him a last smile, and it stayed with him, even after he closed his eyes. He slept and didn’t dream.


	27. Konacha

Tae was used to waking at dawn every day, and it was no different this time. She sat up, turning her head to relieve the stiffness. Sleep hadn’t quite left her, and she dazedly looked around at the small room that obviously wasn’t hers.

_Oh, that’s right. This is Hiko-san’s home._

The air did have the same smell as his coat, of earth and the surrounding evergreen trees. It was more prominent, but even now, she didn’t find it unpleasant. She ran her fingers through her loose hair, soon twisting it into her usual bun. She had slept in her clothes, and while her luggage waited in one of the spare corners, she only smoothed her front before stepping out.

The house was empty, but she expected as much, for it sounded like Hiko-san was chopping wood. The splintering crack and thud lured her past the front door. The weak sunlight hadn’t reached everywhere yet, and her gaze went to movement at the dark edge of the clearing. He had just finished splitting a log, his form still cast in shadow.

“Good morning, Hiko-san.” She called out.

“Morning.” He brusquely replied, and jerked his head toward the trough. “The water’s clean, if you need it.”

She walked over, with a smile. “Thank you.” She cupped the water between her hands and the coldness numbed her skin. Quickly, she ran the icy liquid over her face. It definitely woke her up, and she sharply exhaled. She was about to use her sleeve to dry off, when she jumped.

Hiko-san was standing next to her. He had approached with a sound, and he dunked his hands into the water. He vigorously splashed his face, as she slowly wiped her own. Perhaps, the water’s effect had faded, because she seemed to be lulled again. It took some effort to look away from him and the stray drops sliding down his neck.

For years, she had spent her morning routine alone. Even at the Akabeko, she was the first one to rise and she prepared for the day in silence. She liked the rare moments of quiet, but…she didn’t mind this either. She hadn’t realized, how guarded she had been around him, but she noticed now. It was as if the air had smoothed out between them, the invisible wall of the past crumbled. So, there was no reason to feel so aware, she told herself. Nevertheless, she straightened when he spoke.

“Sekihara, are you ready to leave?” He asked.

“Well, I suppose so, if I’m going to catch the train.” That moved her feet, and she went to retrieve her luggage. When she returned, it struck her that this was it. Her visit had come to an end. She felt a twinge of dismay. She wished the atmosphere wasn’t so solemn, but she’d have to amend that. “Let’s go.”

“After you.” He motioned her ahead, and although she smiled at that, neither of them said anything for a while. The undergrowth crackled beneath their feet, and the sky gradually brightened.

“Do you plan to visit Tokyo again?” She ventured.

“I doubt it. My idiot apprentice and his family would be fine, without me intruding.”

“I would think that Kenshin-san would invite you, given what you told me.”

He eyed her, with incredulity. “Why would you think that?”

She blinked. “He doesn’t know?”

“Of course not. Why would I tell him?”

“But you told _me_ , Hiko-san.” She was indignant now. The two of them were as good as family!

“That’s because you caught me at Natsuko’s grave.”

“You wouldn’t have said anything otherwise?”

“It’s not a happy story to share, with people who have newborns around them.”

Well, he was true in that regard. “But even so, you could have told him, before Kenji was born.”

“I never wanted his pity.” He deflected. “And how about the tanuki girl? Haven’t you shared with her?”

“I did.”

He was dubious. “Really? All of it?”

“I don’t quite remember.” Now, it was her turn to evade. “It was when we were planning for the wedding, it was a busy time.”

“So you were drunk.”

Her face grew hot. “That isn’t-” Then, she stopped, because he was laughing. It might have been at her expense, but she preferred to see him like this. Melancholy did not suit him.

“How many bottles did you have to finish?”

“I only remember how much tea I drank the day after.” She replied. “I must have brewed two teapots of konacha.”

“Ah, the cheap stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cheap, and it countered the aftertaste of liquor.”

“Fine.” His concession surprised her, but she suspected that it wouldn’t last, and he proved it with a smirk. “If the tea was a better memory than the sake, then you may want to reconsider your suppliers.”

“As a matter of fact, I am. The Akabeko has been thriving, like the name of Ni’itsu-san.” Once the words left her mouth, a memory struck her. She had chosen to call him Hiko-san, but as she now knew, that was an inherited name. Ni’itsu-san was of his own making, so perhaps he preferred it. “Would you rather I call you that? Ni’itsu-san?”

He scoffed. “Of course, Ni’itsu Kakunoshin is an excellent name, but I associate it with the pottery business. You don’t have to change what you call me.”

“But…”

“You’re not business, Sekihara.” He brushed away his bangs. “Let’s leave it at that.” He shifted the topic to his current projects. The kintsugi vase wouldn’t be finished for a while, but the customer was thankfully patient. There was also a set of bowls, for a customer named Arai. She listened with interest, but there was a pleasant buzz within her, from his earlier comment.

At length, they arrived, and the train was boarding passengers. She turned to him. “We’re right on time. Thank you for hosting me, Hiko-san.”

“The honor was mine.” He inclined his head. “Goodbye again, Sekihara.”

She pressed her lips together. This time, the farewell seemed too soon, but she had to leave. And she knew that she’d miss him. “It isn’t goodbye.” She said instead, thinking of her parents’ insistence that she visit in summer. “Hopefully, I may see you in a few months. If that’s alright, of course.”

“I won’t be going anywhere.”

“Then, until later.” She smiled and stepped away first, joining the line of passengers. The conductor was terribly efficient, because she quickly reached the train car. She had just entered it, when Hiko-san called out.

“Sekihara.”

She spun around, ignoring the conductor’s protest. “Yes?”

“Next time, I’ll find out how many bottles you can finish.”

“I refuse to be that drunk ever again.” Still, she grinned at the sound of his laughter.

Fortunately, she had a window seat, and she looked out as the train began to move. Hiko-san was walking off, and this was the third time she had watched him leave. His solitary figure reminded her of his words.

_I never wanted his pity._

Hiko-san had not admitted it, but it seemed like he was afraid of attachment. It was why he stubbornly referred to as Kenshin as ‘idiot apprentice’, it gave a sense of distance. It explained his curt dismissal of a familial connection to Kenji, during that dinner party. His only blood-related family had been cruelly ripped away from him, and he must have decided that it was better to be alone, than to risk being hurt again if something happened.

 _What a silly man._ She thought. _Even if you are afraid, you couldn’t stop being fond of the Himura family. It’s always been that way, from the day we met in the Shirobeko._

And that led her to another conclusion. As long as they were both tied to Kenshin, Kaoru, and Kenji, they would keep seeing each other.

* * *

“Welcome back, Tae-san.” Tsubame beamed as she opened the door.

“Yes, I’m home.” Tae breathed a sigh of relief, as she removed her shoes. She stepped inside, and instantly relaxed. It had been a very long two weeks, she realized.

“Was it nice in Kyoto?”

“It was. My nephew’s healthy, and my sister and brother-in-law are so happy. Even my parents visited and…it was very nice.” She hastily smiled. “And how was it here, Tsubame-chan?”

“Ah, um.” The young girl clutched her apron. “Yahiko-kun and I sold lunches during the cherry blossom viewing. I only made a few dishes, and we took the ‘Beko.”

“Is that so?” She raised her eyebrows, while Tsubame nodded. “And?”

“We sold out.”

“That’s good! And it’s a testament to your cooking. The two of you did well.”

The praise caused Tsubame to release whatever tension she had. “Thank you, Tae-san. Oh, and since we open again tomorrow, should I go to the market?”

“Yes, that would be a big help. I’ll write you a list.”

After Tsubame left, Tae boiled some water. She felt like drinking konacha. When she took the first pungent sip, it almost made her forget her lingering wistfulness.


	28. Yakizakana

It was early April, when Hiko finished the kintsugi commission. The fallen nobles had the tendency to cling to their heirlooms and high-handed ways, but his customer was a decent man, who hadn’t complained when the project had to be delayed for an extra three days. Assembling the broken shards of the vase had been tedious, but as always, the praise made the work worth it. After arriving at the customer’s home, he revealed the repaired pottery. The melted gold connected the ceramic pieces, like a gleaming network of veins.

“Ah, thank you very much, Ni’itsu-san. The craftsmanship is amazing.” The customer bowed his head. He was a young man, who must have been a child when the shogunate dissolved. “We’re very grateful, I’ll get your payment right away. Dear, can you serve Ni’itsu-san the tea?”

As if on cue, the customer’s wife entered with a tea tray and a smile. While she poured three cups of green tea, there was an interruption. A startled cry sounded, before the door slid back. A little boy held a baby by the armpits, while a harried nurse hovered over them.

“I’m very sorry, but they’re too fast for me. Madam-”

“Kousuke, let your sister down.” The customer’s wife urged.

The boy declared. “Hazuki-chan wanted to be picked up.”

“Yes, but look, she isn’t happy.” Indeed, the baby was thrashing, face turning red with frustration.

“Oh.” He set his sister on the floor, and the nurse immediately scooped her up, before ushering them away. The customer’s wife understandably pardoned herself, and the man himself was sheepish.

“We deeply apologize for the interruption.”

“It’s fine.” He and Natsuko had once been like that, after all. He suspected that the brats were responsible for the initial damage to the vase. But from how they had free rein over the household, it was obvious that they were cherished. He drank from his teacup, letting the hot liquid slide down his throat.

“Then, here’s what we owe you.” It was a fair sum, and Hiko accepted it.

The Kyoto streets were uncomfortably warm when he walked out. People were milling about, on their way to lunch. He noticed the Shirobeko was full and raucous, so he headed down a side street. A stall was grilling dried fish, and he purchased his meal there. He assumed the wait would be uneventful, but he realized there was someone staring at him. It was a woman, not surprising, yet there was an oddly familiar air about her…

She walked over to him, with a slight smile on her elegant features. Her hair was threaded with gray, but her gaze was sharp as she looked up at him. “It’s been many years, but you look exactly the same, Sei-san. Do you remember me?”

He suddenly recalled that smile, on a powdered face in dim candlelight. “Momose?”

The former geiko was pleased. “Ah, so you do! How have you been?”

“Well enough.” The memories were vague now, but for a short time after Master’s death, he had enjoyed her company. She was carefree and clever and a pleasant distraction from the villages’ demands. It was fun, for a while. Then, after a year, he left in search of Natsuko and she retired to marry a wealthy guest. He had not seen her again, until now. “And you? I heard you had left Kyoto.”

“I did, but I’m here to visit my mother-in-law. She’s feeling a little unwell and when she’s sick, she’s needy. But at the end of the day, I’m returning home. I have a husband and two young daughters waiting for me.” Her tone was lighthearted and expectant.

“You sound content.”

“Indeed, I have nothing to complain about, other than finicky in-laws.” She gave a delicate laugh. “Have you settled down?”

“No.”

“Hmm? Then shall I direct you to a colleague or two?”

“There isn’t need for that either.”

“Oh, I see.” Whatever she concluded, she kept it to herself. “But I’m glad that we’ve met again. I remember that our parting was abrupt.”

“It couldn’t be helped at the time.” He gruffly said. “You took the path that was best for you, and I chose mine. Moving forward is an inevitable part of life.”

“Yes, that’s true. We had good memories, but I would not change anything. I have a good life with my husband, and you must feel the same about her.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t deny that there _is_ someone.” She was teasing now. “Is she a good woman? What’s she like?”

He paused, bringing a certain pink flower and a tender expression to mind. “Out of all the things in nature, the morning glory would suit her the most. Resilient and climbing upwards, without faltering, without losing its vivid brilliance or appeal.”

“You did have a way with words. Any woman would swoon over such poetic flattery.” Momose sighed. Then, she was called for her ordered fish and she excused herself. “I have to go, but it was nice to see you again. Goodbye.”

“Take care of yourself, and goodbye.” He inclined his head, and she did the same. She walked out of sight, and his eyes didn’t follow her.

The yakizakana was soft and salty, but he didn’t have the time to savor it. He had to buy supplies again, and the day was already half over. Unfortunately, most of the merchants had remembered when Sekihara accompanied him during the last time, and he could tell by their faces, that they thought he had scared her off.

Even when he entered Torikai’s shop, she pointedly looked at his side.

“Sekihara’s not here, she went back to Tokyo.”

The old woman’s shoulders sagged with disappointment, as she turned to an open page in her notebook. She lifted her pencil and wrote down a sentence. _I thought you would have made her stay._

“She has her business to take care of. And that’s enough gossip. I’m here to buy paper too.” He needed more, to correspond with customers. Torikai guessed as much, and after the transaction, she wrote another message for him.

_There is a merchant from Tokyo, who has heard of your pottery. He is willing to distribute your pottery there. He would like to meet with you, if that is possible._

Well…he couldn’t help from being interested.

* * *

Through letters, he arranged to meet the merchant in Tokyo. It was easier that way, since he didn’t want to risk the merchant finding out where he lived. That had happened with a particularly nosy merchant, who he had to intimidate into forgetting. No, meeting in the new capital would be perfectly fine.

Also, he could stop by his idiot apprentice’s house, just so he could see who the brat took after. The brat’s hair indicated the idiot, but if the eyes were the same, it could be the tanuki girl as well. And if there was time, he could make another stop at the Akabeko. He hadn’t written to Sekihara since her visit, although she had sent a letter informing him that she was regaining her full-time staff. He had imagined her excited voice, but he preferred to hear her in person. At the rate he was walking, he would be in the city by tomorrow.

Hiko paused to frown at the narrow mountain road. To one side, there was an unforgiving cliff, studded with rocks. To the other side, there was empty air and the treetops shielding the land below. He had enough sense to not take the cart, mailing some samples to the merchant instead. But the road curved ahead, and he couldn’t see beyond that. Out of habit, one of his hands drifted to the hilt of his katana.

It ended up being for good reason. His grip tightened as he walked forward; there was a faint sense of bloodlust, and the sound of hurried steps. Hiko was about to draw his blade, when a fine dust billowed in front of him. More bloodlust was now _above_ him. He snapped his head up towards the cliff. As three people sprinted away, he glimpsed a familiar face.

It was the crow boy.

Hiko tensed, but he was a second too slow. The rocks tumbled down from the cliff, and he threw his energy into retreating out of the way. But he then realized it wasn’t enough. A spark caught his eye, as it worked down a short rope to one of the rocks. A fuse, and as if they had all decided to show themselves, another half dozen materialized in Hiko’s line of sight. The crow boy was trying to blow him up with his own style of pottery. He was going to beat the shit out of the bastard, but he’d have to be alive for that first.

It was a gamble to slice the ceramic bombs, if he didn’t know how many there really were, and it was a long way down. In that case…

He took a running start.

The air exploded.


	29. Okayu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a Disney song that would be kind of appropriate for this chapter. :D Also, this is the last update until May 20, at least. Sorry guys, I had eight exams since the last update and I'll have five more before May 20. But yeah, this is a pretty big chapter to make up for it. Let me know what you think!

There was a stranger, hovering around the Akabeko. His graying head wasn't the first she had seen, and Tae's stomach sank. She should have expected this, because business was doing so well. It raised the value of the land, and then the men would arrive, thinking she'd sell her life's work for a meager profit. Well, she had to keep her chin up and tell the new waitresses to be strong too.

She walked towards the front door, calling out. "I'm very sorry, but we aren't open yet."

The man startled, answering. "Oh, I'm not a customer. I'd like to speak with the owner."

"I'm the owner." She forced on a smile. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Ah, you must be Sekihara-san." He chuckled, but Tae could only hear the false note in it. She sighed, deciding to meet him outside the building. He paid the usual compliments to the Akabeko; it was to lower her guard and pave the way for more visits. Then, if he followed the typical negotiation, he'd offer the terms of a transaction in another month. It was unfortunate, but she could only endure this strategy. These people, as crafty as they were with words, did not like hearing 'no' from a woman.

"Tae-san? We're back with what you needed." Tsubame's voice interrupted, right on time. She and Yahiko had returned with the groceries.

"Welcome back." She turned to them, trying not to sound relieved. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have to prepare for today. Have a good day."

"And you as well." On the surface, he was polite, but she did not like the way his gaze lingered on Tsubame and Yahiko, as if noting that she employed children. Yahiko glared back, and Tsubame had to tug him inside.

"Ugh, I thought we got rid of the creeps." He grumbled.

"It's alright, we just have to endure it and keep doing our best." Tae reassured, and it was partly for herself too. "Now, let's get ready, we have a busy afternoon ahead."

* * *

 

The end of the week approached, and it was a sunny afternoon when Kaoru stopped by. She looked overcome, her ponytail half undone. Kenji writhed in her arms, screaming displeasure and waving angry little fists. The lunch rush had just ended, and Tae was cleaning one of the empty tables when she noticed them. "Oh, Kaoru, you're out for a walk with Kenji?"

She nodded, but her smile was strained. "He's been teething, and he doesn't want to nap."

"The poor dear. Do you need anything?"

"No, I think he'll calm down soon." Sure enough, Kenji wore himself out in a matter of minutes. He began to whine and hiccup, and almost sulkily, he closed his eyes. Kaoru was visibly relieved yet exhausted. She had accepted Tae's offer of a corner table, sitting down with a sigh. Kenji dozed in the crook of her arm, and she shook her head. "Finally."

"Mm, he's sleeping so soundly."

"Yeah, this will be the best hour of today." Her mouth twitched. "Forget that, I shouldn't complain like this."

"You can let it all out, you know." Tae gently said. "Even mothers need to vent sometimes."

She swallowed before speaking. "This morning, the police came to our door, saying that someone at the hospital was requesting for Kenshin. There weren't any details, they took Kenshin away so quickly, and I don't know when he'll be back. I couldn't go with him, because Kenji would get sick. Then, the students forgot the most recent steps so I had to scold them, and Kenji hasn't been happy at all either." She blinked rapidly, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her free hand. "Geez, I'm just stressed."

"And you have every right to feel that way." Tae pulled a napkin from her apron pocket and handed it towards Kaoru, who accepted it.

"But I shouldn't. I know Kenshin will be home soon, and that the students forget sometimes, and that Kenji's in pain." At that, she flashed a worried look to the baby. "I wonder if I'm overreacting."

"You can't help being frustrated, Kaoru, but you haven't overreacted at all. You've actually been very patient, and you sought me out, didn't you? Because you needed to talk to someone."

"I guess so." She seemed steadier, returning the damp napkin. "And I had to get out of the dojo; I can't think straight when I'm worked up."

"That's right. Now, it's been a long day and you've endured it well. If you're hungry, I can take over and make something quick."

"It's alright. I feel a lot better now." She blew out a breath. "Well, I should take Kenji home so I can properly put him to bed. Maybe, Kenshin's already back too." She slowly stood, with a grateful smile. "Thank you for listening, Tae."

"Don't mention it. I'll stop by tomorrow, after we close."

She did keep her promise, and the spring breeze was refreshingly cool on her skin. As she was about to cross the gate, she couldn't help hearing a snatch of conversation.

"Did you really slow down your fall, by slicing into a tree?" That was Yahiko's voice, brimming with doubt.

"It was only the basic Ryu Tsui Sen, by taking advantage of the jump's momentum. That took minimal thinking, of course."

Tae stopped. That was _definitely_ a familiar person. It couldn't be anyone other than…

"And yet, you fractured your leg, Shishou. Your recovery will take at least six weeks, and because the police are still searching for Ueda-kun and his associates, you have to remain here."

"I'm not happy about it either."

Tae remembered to pick up her feet, and in a matter of moments, she was facing Hiko-san once again. He was sitting on the porch, stretching out one leg bound in a cast. Kenshin and Yahiko stood over him, but they looked up once they noticed Tae.

"Oh, Tae-dono." Kenshin greeted her. "Are you here to see Kaoru-dono?"

"Yes, just to visit."

"She's laid down Kenji for his nap. This one will get her." With a harmless smile, he went inside.

Tae was about to speak, but Hiko-san then turned to Yahiko. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

He glanced at both of them, before backtracking. "Er, I guess I'll get the tea…or something…"

"Oh, it's alri-" She interjected too late, and with a sigh, she seated herself on the porch. "Hello, Hiko-san, I couldn't help but hear that you hurt yourself. And was this Ueda-kun the same person, whom Hatsu-san did not want to marry?"

"Ah, so you eavesdropped." He noted without malice. "Yes, he was. He tried to ambush me, so I had to think quickly. Even after landing on the ground, I still made it to the nearest inn. Considering the circumstances, it was an excellent decision to use the surroundings to my advantage."

She eyed his cast. "If you say so, Hiko-san. Did you come to visit Kenshin?"

"That wasn't the only reason. A merchant here has taken an interest in my pottery."

"Oh, that's good news. Your business is doing well." She paused. "Forgive me for asking, but has anyone ever tried to undermine you?"

"There have been merchants who tried to skim off profits, but I took back control over sales and the artisans in Kyoto keep to themselves. Someone's bothering _you_ , is that it?" He gave her a pointed expression.

"It's nothing I can't handle." She waved in dismissal. "This isn't the first man who thinks he can buy the restaurant from me. Land in this city is highly valued, and I knew that when I built the Akabeko. I was only wondering how else I can shoo this one away, while still being polite."

"You can always sharpen more knives." He bluntly said.

She laughed. "That was another instance where I came close to losing my temper. It's not that bad now, so I shouldn't."

"Why not? If you wait until the situation worsens, it may not work. Take the first strike, Sekihara, and let me know when you do. I want to be there when it happens, it's bound to be entertaining."

Embarrassed heat flooded her face. "It may not be _that_ exciting….oh, dear." The wind had picked up, rustling her apron and her bangs. She hurriedly smoothed herself down, but she must have missed something, for Hiko-san leaned closer.

Almost too gently, he plucked a grass blade from her sleeve. "The weather's unpredictable, since it's spring." He looked tousled as well, and the messiness was endearing. If she wanted to, she could have lifted her hand and fixed his hair.

Yahiko's footsteps approached, and he was griping. "Ugh, all three of them are napping together, so I can't bother them…" He stopped, the tea tray swaying in his grasp. "So, should I just leave this here?"

Tae jolted. "That would be perfectly fine. Thank you, Yahiko-kun."

"Sure."

Suddenly, Hiko-san declared. "What was that about my idiot apprentice? It's been a while since I've seen him drool in his sleep. Sekihara, help me up."

"Only if you won't wake them." She evenly replied, but she took his arm to steady him. "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to carry you there myself."

She meant it jokingly, but he only looked at her. "No, I'd rather walk like this."

Somehow, she couldn't find a response to that, and her throat tightened as they peeked into the bedroom. She blamed it on the adorable sight on the large futon, where Kenshin and Kaoru slept with their foreheads touching, and their baby son was nestled between them.

* * *

 

Thankfully, the real estate hunter had disappeared. Then again, some regular customers had as well. Apparently, there was a spring cold going around, and like the wind itself, it came to the Kamiya dojo. Tae only heard one morning, when Yahiko, red-eyed and snappish, asked her how to cook okayu.

"Who is it for? Not you?"

He shook his head. "Well, Kaoru caught a cold from one of the other students, and Kenshin got it from her. I had to stay up most of the night, warming up the blankets. Not that I could have, with all the nonstop coughing." He muttered, folding his arms together. "Anyway, when I tried to make the rice porridge, it came out too watery."

"Ah, that's because you didn't have the correct ratio of rice to water. Here, for two people, you need these amounts." She showed him how to measure, using a clean pot. "Have they seen Dr. Gensai yet?"

"Yeah, he just said they have to fight it off. Kenji's been quarantined with Kenshin's master for now."

Tsubame entered the kitchen, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. At her inquiring gaze, Yahiko informed her of the situation. She sympathized and asked. "Is there any way I can help?"

"Well…" He crossed his arms, considering. "I guess you could come over during our lunch break. We could cook faster, if there are two of us."

She turned to Tae. "Is that alright, Tae-san?"

"Only if you two don't get sick as well." She gently said. "And if there are smaller tasks, you can also ask Hiko-san to do them. His hands are free, after all, when Kenji's asleep."

"Oh, right. They don't really eat either, they're both picky."

"I see." It was definitely more difficult, to cook food that was appealing enough for a fussy baby and a man like Hiko-san. "In that case, I'll join you when I can."

She didn't have to wait long. Two days later, the restaurant was quiet enough for her to slip out. She informed the waitresses that she would be back, and she caught up with Tsubame and Yahiko. Hiko-san was sitting on the porch, when they arrived. Next to him, Kenji was on his back, gumming at the head of a kokeshi doll.

"Kenji-chan likes that?" Tsubame smiled. "I'm glad I still kept it."

"It keeps him quiet." Hiko-san grunted. "Good afternoon, Sekihara. Are you not busy?"

"Good afternoon to you, Hiko-san, and yes, I have some time. I heard that Kenshin and Kaoru have gotten over the worst of it? I should greet them." She made to step inside, and Yahiko added.

"Oh, take a handkerchief for your face. They're better, but they're still coughing."

"And that's why they're still kept away from the brat." Hiko-san said, as he nudged Kenji away from the edge of the porch. The baby made a noise of protest, around the doll's head. Tae spared a backwards glance, but she decided to leave them be. After she ensured that her nose and mouth were covered by the handkerchief, she knocked on the bedroom door.

"Excuse me, can I come in?"

"Yes." That was Kenshin's voice, and so, Tae slid the door aside. Kenshin was looking out the window, as Kaoru sat on the futon with a book in her hands. They both turned towards her, and Kaoru blinked.

"Tae! Yahiko did say you might be coming. Sorry, we're troubling you."

"No, not at all. I'll leave you alone to rest, but I only wanted to ask if okayu was alright for lunch."

"Geez, again?" Kaoru sighed, but Kenshin squeezed her shoulder.

"Yes, that should be fine, Tae-dono. It's best for recovery, and we need to do so as quickly as possible."

"And you're worrying about the house and Kenji again." Kaoru chided. "I told you, at least Hiko-san is here."

"That is exactly why this one worries." He was almost sulking, and Tae laughed.

"He seemed to be doing very well."

Kenshin and Kaoru looked at each other, exchanging smiles. It was quick, and they only told Tae that if there were any mishaps, they wanted to be notified. Then, Tae headed for the kitchen. Yahiko and Tsubame had already set out the ingredients, and she started instructing them.

"We're short on time, so we'll just make one pot of okayu. Even Kenji can eat that. We'll add vegetables and some of the salted salmon, to make ours more filling. But it won't take long at all." With that, they prepared the toppings as the rice soaked.

Tae focused on slicing the salmon into thin strips, only looking up when she heard the floorboards creak. "Hiko-san?"

He was supporting himself with a wooden pole, which served as a makeshift walking stick. In his other arm, he held a whining Kenji. "What? I'm tired of sitting out there, and the brat is tired of chewing."

She smiled. "Well, his portion should be ready soon."

Tsubame ladled out some of the plain porridge, blowing at it before feeding Kenji in her lap. The baby's expression slackened, and the spoon emerged clean from his mouth. Yahiko divided the rest and placed two bowls on a tray. He tied a handkerchief around his face, heading for Kenshin and Kaoru's room. "I'm giving them their shares."

Tae set his bowl aside. "Alright. And Tsubame, remember to eat yours. Hiko-san, this one's for you."

"Thanks." As he accepted the bowl, his rough fingertips brushed hers, and prickling warmth radiated beneath her skin.

She pulled away, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "If you'd like more, let me know." Then, with some relief, she began to eat hers. The porridge was thick, the fish and parsley lending salt and bitterness. But too quickly, the hour ended, and Tae prepared to leave first. "I'll be back tomorrow."

In the corner of her eye, she caught Hiko-san smirking, as he did when he was pleased. Somehow, she wanted to laugh.

* * *

 

Three days later, Kenshin and Kaoru were almost back to full health. Tae had visited every afternoon, first to prepare okayu and then to supervise Tsubame and Yahiko. Today, Kenshin had been well enough to help them, so she stayed in the Akabeko. Still, she decided to check on them in the evening.

Hiko-san was sitting on the front step, and she relaxed upon seeing him. She didn't have to go around to the porch, and she approached. Kenji must have been put to bed, because he was only accompanied by his sake jug. "Ah, so you showed up after all."

"Only to make sure everything's fine. Is everyone asleep?"

"Yes, today was overly long." He griped about his idiot apprentice exhausting himself, how the tanuki girl was frustrated at how she couldn't help, and that the brat had taken to pulling hair. "But of course, I endured it all, because I'm just that patient. And speaking of which, what about that man circling your business? Has he shown up lately?"

"No, thank goodness." She sighed. "I hope he's given up."

"If he hasn't, there are the knives."

"I didn't forget." But that made her smile. Despite the late hour, it was a nice evening: breezy but quiet. In the darkness past the open gate, there were a few moving shadows, and she blinked.

She recognized those silhouettes. They were two of her new waitresses, Jun and Machi. They were roommates, and they seemed to be walking home together. Jun's stoic expression cracked, as she lifted an eyebrow, while Machi cheerfully called out. "Hello, Sekihara-san! And hello, sir!"

Hiko-san gave a dignified nod.

"Are you the one Sekihara-san's been visiting?"

"That's right." He sipped from his jug.

Machi seemed to be even more curious, but Jun bowed. "It was nice to meet you, sir. We'll leave you two alone."

"Oh, I was just leaving." She said, although the two women had already disappeared into the night. "Then, good night."

He thought otherwise. "I'm walking with you."

"Hiko-san, you don't have to."

He noticed her gaze on his cast, and he snorted. "I'm not an invalid. Let's go." He had improved his pace with the wooden pole, and she didn't have to slow down for him. In fact, they reached their destination in a matter of minutes. They hadn't spoken at all, and she felt a little disappointed.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked at him. "Tha-"

"It's no problem." He interrupted, already turning away. He definitely was faster, and he spoke again just before he turned the corner. "You should go inside, it's cold."

She pressed her lips together. She still wanted to properly thank him, and the following afternoon, she departed once more for the Kamiya dojo. Kaoru was alone, having finished nursing Kenji. She greeted Tae and explained. "Kenshin's escorted Hiko-san to the hospital, so they can check his leg."

A knot of worry formed in her stomach. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah, it was time for his appointment, and they're going to the police station after that. Two men were caught, and they need to be identified. Well, hopefully, it won't take that long. Why don't you stay for lunch?"

Tae accepted the invitation, and it was pleasant, to chat with Kaoru for the first time in a while. She had hoped to return quietly, but she almost bumped into Machi, who grinned as she called out over her shoulder. "Ah, Sekihara-san's back from meeting her suitor."

"It's more like she's courting him. We're cheering you on, Sekihara-san. The emancipation of women is upon us." Jun lifted a fist in restrained encouragement.

Tae's face grew hot, and she gave a nervous laugh. "No one's courting anyone."

She tilted her head. "Then why do you visit him?"

"Well, he was injured, and his hosts were sick."

"But Yahiko-kun said that they're better now. Surely, can't they take care of him?"

"That's true." Her heartbeat was rather loud, and she tried to brush off the conversation. "Then, it must be my own thinking. It's nice to visit him, and I don't know when I'll see him again."

"Will you miss him when he leaves?"

"It would be strange if I didn't." She had intended to end the conversation there, moving on to the next task at hand. But Machi spoke up again.

"You know, you always look happy, when you leave to meet him. So, isn't that love?"

Love?

In love? With Hiko-san?

 _That's silly._ That had been her first thought, but the idea still rattled in her head, even after she closed for the evening. She liked Hiko-san's company, but wasn't that how it was with friends? She had missed him, she looked forward to visiting him. When she usually searched for him, it wasn't as if she blushed like a young girl.

_I only thought 'oh, there he is, I'm glad I found him'._

So _if_ it was love, why did it have to be him? In the novels she read, she liked the talkative, romantic characters the most. She had yearned for warmth, which had been missing from her first marriage, so why had her thoughts turned elsewhere? Hiko-san could be sardonic and brusque, and she shouldn't have liked being around him. However…

However, he cared in his own way, about his apprentice and even to strangers who needed help. He respected her business, and he had never insulted her. He carried a deep sadness within him, yet he had trusted her with it. She had trusted him in return. When she spoke with him, she liked the flow of their banter. But she liked him best when he laughed. She had missed him, and she had been pleased to see him again, despite the circumstances. She liked spending time with him.

 _He's a friend. He's_ supposed _to be a friend._ It was late into the night, and she reached for her comb to smooth out her hair. Out of habit, she opened a different drawer instead, and her gaze caught the folded corner of a portrait. _Oh, my collection of drawings from Tsukioka Tsunan._

As she smoothed the crease, she couldn't help but look at the familiar features of Iba Hachiro. The sharp jawline, the fall of dark hair, the broad shoulders. She blinked hard. Was it her imagination, or did Hachiro-san suddenly resemble Hiko-san? Or was it the other way around?! Quickly, she closed the drawer, her heart pounding.

It made her wonder. _Is it really love?_

It was a terrible feeling, to be uncertain over this at her age. But she slowly decided that perhaps, Hiko-san was not exactly a friend, not anymore.


	30. Wakame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled myself out of RL responsibilities long enough to finish this, so I rushed a bit. The end is near though. Let me know what you think!

The week passed slowly, and Hiko was irritable for many reasons. While the merchant was invested, he had drawn out the bargaining over transportation, insisting that the journey from Kyoto was too far for one middleman. The crow boy hadn’t been found by the police yet. His leg was still bound in its cast. His baka deshi and the tanuki girl constantly asked if he needed anything, while their brat was a regular escape artist, always crawling and rolling.

And Sekihara had not visited once.

According to the spiky-haired boy, she was busy, for the real estate hunter had surfaced again. As of yet, the undesirable man was avoiding direct confrontation, choosing to gather information from the bank and the Akabeko’s suppliers. From the boy’s reports, Sekihara was tense, yet for her sake, Hiko had to grit his teeth and stay out of the situation.

When some good news did arrive, the source was the police department. They believed they had found Ueda Giichi, and needed to confirm his identity. Nonchalantly, Hiko headed out of the house, with his crutch under his arm. “Finally, it’s the last time I can drag myself to the station.”

Over the noise of clashing wooden swords from the dojo, his idiot apprentice had heard, calling out from the yard. “Would you like this one to go with you?”

“Your brat needs you more.” He nodded in the direction of the room, where Kenji was napping, and closed the gate behind him. “It should be quick, it had better be.”

He thought it was, when he arrived and an assigned officer led him to a jail cell. The air was humid and heavy, but Hiko’s gaze landed on the figure they stopped in front of. “Oh, that’s him.” The crow boy’s eyes were shadowed, and he looked filthy, sitting amongst the straw.

“And there’s another thing.” The young officer hesitated. “He wanted to speak to you.”

“Is that all? Fine.”

“Then, sir, you can wait in the lobby while I take him to the interrogation room.”

“There’s no need. We’ll settle it right here.” After all, civility had been off the table since the ambush on the road to Tokyo.

The officer fiddled with the keys, practically leaping back when the lock clicked. He swung the door open, and Hiko heaved an impatient sigh as he stepped forward.

In an instant, Ueda lunged. “You took Hatsu from me-”

Unceremoniously, Hiko clocked him, hard enough to slam the crow boy into the opposite wall. There, he fulfilled his promise to beat the shit out of him, and it felt pretty damn satisfying. “First of all, there was no ‘taking’. Only a decision, made of her own free will. Second, you have no right to claim possession over another person. And third, you’re a damn nuisance. You thought you could try and kill me?” Irritation had given way to full blown anger. “As if I’d roll over and die because of your petty grudge. You overestimate how important you are. Here’s the truth: you’re pathetic.” Hiko dug his crutch into the ground for emphasis. The crow boy did have some protective instinct left, because he flinched and threw his hands up in front of his face.

It was supposed to be a victory, but as Hiko walked out of the cell, his temper was still roiling.

* * *

Although he delayed his return to the dojo, his mood still hadn’t quite calmed. His baka deshi and the tanuki girl were sitting on the porch, beaming. The baby was standing on the ground, having pulled himself up to hold the polished wood.

“Oh, welcome back, Hiko-san. Look, Kenji’s learning how to stand on his own.” The tanuki girl’s smile stiffened just a fraction, probably at Hiko’s expression.

“Is that so?” He glanced at the brat, who was now bouncing in place. On another day, he would have laughed, but now, he merely moved to the farthest corner of the porch and settled there.

Instead of leaving him alone, Kenji dropped to the grass and crawled over. A small fist grabbed Hiko’s coat, as the baby threw a leg into the air, trying to climb up. Realizing he didn’t have any support, Kenji made a noise of frustration. “Ah!”

“You brat.” Hiko sighed, and lifted him onto his knee. “You’re troublesome.”

Kenji only grinned. The edges of two teeth glistened.

“We noticed those at lunch.” Kenshin said with pride. “Soon, we’ll give him some solid food to eat.”

Hiko gave an absentminded grunt. It was a quiet afternoon, and early summer was upon them.

He had been angry at Ueda Giichi, and then at himself. For most of his life, he had expected to die by the sword and then by the hands of his apprentice. Death was inevitable, and he thought he accepted that. But he knew why the ambush had angered him so much. It was because he didn’t want to die. He liked making pottery. He liked drinking sake in the evenings, and reading his apprentice’s terribly written letters. He liked the occasional visit to their warm household, and seeing Sekihara, no matter how brief.

He liked _living._

And he hadn’t been used to that feeling in years. It disconcerted him, manifesting into the only way his subconscious dealt with discomfort: being an asshole.

Reality returned sharply, and he glared, for his apprentice was looking at him very carefully. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, Shishou.” Then, almost hesitantly, he said. “It is only that you have always held Kenji very naturally.”

He could tell when an idiotic question was coming and flatly prevented it. “I never had a kid.”

Suddenly, the brat had the nerve to rub his face into Hiko’s shoulder. He had a scratchy spot, the tanuki girl was explaining. It was funny, the furious way the baby’s head turned to satisfy the itch. Then, there was a flash of memory, of Shoukichi doing the same, as if trying to find his mother’s scent. Maybe it was his age catching up to him, but Hiko felt overwhelmed and locked in place.

“Take him back.” He bit out, and the tanuki girl did.

Kenji squirmed in her arms, and as she patted his back, there was a stern note in her voice. “If you didn’t like that, then you just have to let him down. He’s more than eight months old, it’s not like when he was a newborn.”

He couldn’t say that he had been momentarily paralyzed, and he lashed out. “He’s still a baby. And for that matter, he had better not choke on anything you give him.”

“We’d never be that careless! Geez, what’s with you?”

His answer was stony silence, and no one spoke for a while. The only sounds came from Kenji, babbling to himself.

His apprentice finally asked. “Does your mood have anything to do with why you were in the Kyoto cemetery?”

“What, that actually came to your attention?”

“This one noticed before.” He defended. “But it was never the right time to mention it again. If that time is now, this one will listen. If it’s not, then that’s fine. Everyone has things about their past, that they don’t wish to share.” At this, he knowingly smiled at his wife. Hiko figured they must have been her words.

“That is true, and it’s not the right time. But that day will come soon, and only then, I will tell you all of it. Be patient.” They seemed to accept that. Right now, talk of death, especially Shoukichi’s, would upset them and that was more trouble than it was worth. When the brat was older and less susceptible to danger, he would tell them.

And by then, if he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to be half intoxicated to do so.

* * *

Hiko snapped out of sleep, when he registered a familiar presence in the house. He silently rose from his futon, listening for her voice through the walls.

“The market has fresh wakame, so I thought I would bring some. Miso always looks nicer with it, and it’s nutritious. And there were a few bargains…”

“Oh, just come into the kitchen, Tae!” The tanuki girl invited Sekihara, and their soft footsteps shuffled on the floorboards. “It’s still early, you can spare a few minutes.” There was more bustling, as the groceries were set away. Then, the brat woke, whining for reassurance. Hiko took that as his cue to step out, although his apprentice thought so too.

“Good morning, Shishou.” He smiled, despite the cranky baby pulling at his hair. “Tae-dono is here, it seems.”

“I know.”

Sekihara turned at his voice, with a little jolt. Her hands were submerged in the seaweed, and she hastily withdrew them. “Good morning.” Spring vegetables were strewn across the counter behind her.

Hiko stepped closer. In the corner of his eye, his apprentice switched off with his wife, exchanging the baby for peapods. But mostly, his focus was on Sekihara. Her face was a little flushed, and her eyes were weary from lack of sleep. He bluntly asked. “How have you been?”

“I’m alright. I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Hiko-san.”

“You weren’t disturbing.” He paused, wondering if his drowsiness hadn’t completely dissipated.

But she didn’t quip. “Oh.” Her cheeks were a darker shade of pink than before. Then, she abruptly returned to the seaweed. “I know Kaoru and Kenshin prefer this fresh, but I didn’t know your tastes. Do you like wakame, when it’s dried and salted?”

“More often than not.”

She nodded. “I’ll bring some for you next time.”

“Don’t bother, if you’re busy.”

“I’m not.” To his surprise, there was an underlying note of frustration. Her hand reached out to pat his arm, and he was unsettled enough to almost miss her next words. “What I meant was, I don’t mind at all. Things came up last week, but I’m able to visit now. How is your leg?”

His gaze fell to the cast. “Another two weeks, and I’ll be rid of it. I look forward to it.”

“Still, it’s good that you are getting better. I heard that Ueda Giichi was found and identified.” She hesitated. “After you heal, will you leave?”

Occasionally, he did long for the solitude of his own house, but he couldn’t honestly say he was eager to go. “That depends on the merchant and whether he can make up his mind.”

“Ah, then I hope he’ll deliberate a little longer.”

He stared. That had sounded like intentional flirting, and her nervous yet pleased face didn’t help that conclusion. But before he could call her out on it, she realized she had overstayed her visit, and hurriedly departed. Breakfast was rushed, for the tanuki girl had to begin her teaching. With the brat in tow, his apprentice attended to his household duties.

Hiko was left to wonder what the hell had just happened. Sekihara had been more flustered than usual, and unlike her previous confessions about missing him, her last statement had been almost coy. And yet, her expression showed that she had been genuine. Then, there was that casual pat, and her insistence on preparing the wakame.

…she liked him.

He couldn’t outright court her. He had to return to Kyoto, and the Akabeko was her livelihood. He was certain that their feelings were unequal. He had known for months that he was in love with her, only concerning himself with stifling it. But now, she was starting to like him. She did like him.

“Shishou, is something funny?” His apprentice suddenly appeared in front of him, setting the brat on the floor with the kokkeshi doll.

His mouth vaguely ached, with a satisfied grin. Quickly, he snapped out of his foolish behavior. “A lot of things, actually. I’m going for a walk.”

It wasn’t a bluff. He did meet with the merchant, who had made progress towards a final deal with a second middleman. They would have a joint meeting at the end of the week, and that was the end of the day’s business. But he had come all this way, so he would at least make the visit into town worth it. The market was buzzing, yet nothing seemed to be suitable, save for a sole exception. There was a cartful of farmers’ children, selling vibrant wisteria branches from a recent pruning. He purchased one, and a newspaper to keep it cool.

He would be nice to Sekihara, at least. She deserved that much.

“Hey, it’s Sekihara’s fellow!” A man, cooking yakiniku at a stall, called out to him. Hiko pivoted, narrowing his eyes.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, the wife and I have known Sekihara for years. We’re rootin’ for you two.”

“Yeah, I remember you. Weren’t you around last year?” Another shopkeeper added.

“That’s right, he _was_.” A customer said, her eyes gleaming. “Is that a present for her?”

“No.” Hiko clipped and shortly excused himself.

Deep in thought, he changed direction, for his apprentice’s home. The wisteria was not a courting gift. It could not be, with so many prying eyes. Grudgingly, he decided he would have to give it indirectly. The spiky-haired boy was leaving the dojo for the Akabeko, and Hiko stopped him.

“I need the location of Sekihara’s mailbox. You can have this in exchange.” He handed over his spare change, and the boy quickly pocketed the coins.

“Sure, whatever.”

“Is that all you say when someone essentially gives you a bribe?”

The boy’s face reddened. “No! It’s because I trust you, and, well, Tae would appreciate something from you. That’s why!” He stormed in the direction of the post office, glancing back now and then to ensure Hiko was following. As they approached, the boy jerked a thumb to the opposite end of the street. “There’s the guy who’s been troubling Tae. The one who wants to buy off the Akabeko.”

The man was exiting the bank; he hadn’t noticed them among the throng of people. He was rather ordinary, but Hiko memorized his face, before the spiky-haired boy opened the post office’s door for him. They left the wrapped branch, in the compartment assigned to her.

“Let her know to retrieve it before the end of the day.” Otherwise, it would wither.

“I will.” A shrug, and then he was off. The clerk gave a courteous smile, which Hiko ignored as he walked out.

After that, the days were not notable. He rested his leg, which was sore from his excursion. His apprentice and the tanuki girl remained as attentive as ever.

“Here’s some barley tea, Hiko-san.” The tanuki girl set a cup next to him.

His apprentice passed by and paused. “Shishou, do you need another pillow to elevate your leg?”

“This is fine. The two of you are smothering.” But, it wasn’t all terrible.

“We’re doing what we can, before you leave.” The tanuki girl retorted. “We’ll miss you then. Right, Kenshin?”

His apprentice evaded. “This one thinks Kenji will miss you the most. Ah, Kenji!”

The baby had pulled himself to the table, interested in the tray of onigiri. He grabbed a clump of rice from the nearest one, and stuffed it into his mouth. He was already chewing when his father reached him. Hiko laughed, a little maliciously, while waiting for the brat to swallow.

“It’s my fault, he’s hungry around this time.” The tanuki girl sighed. “Is he alright?”

“Yes, it was small enough for him to eat. No, no more.” He firmly pushed the tray further away, from the brat’s outstretched hand.

“That’s good.” She walked over, to tightly hug her son. “Kenji, you liked the onigiri, hm? And now you can stand too. You’re growing up to be so big.” She cooed, and the brat gave a two-toothed smile. His apprentice looked immensely proud. Immensely happy.

And Hiko was glad for them.

That evening, he sent a letter to Sekihara, a brief inquiry of how she was and that the wakame could wait. He didn’t have to wait more than a day, to receive a reply.

_To Hiko-san,_

_I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear from you. Everyone at the Akabeko is supportive, but I can’t say it’s been easy. I haven’t gotten around to even drying the wakame yet, I’m so sorry. And the salt would be restoring, in this weather. But I heard from Yahiko that Kenji’s taken to solid food well. That is very good news indeed, and I know how meaningful this is to you._

_Thank you for the gift. I’ve placed it where I can see it every day, and it’s lifted my spirits. If you can, I hope you can see how I’ve put it to use._

_Until we meet again,_

_Tae_

He folded the letter, keeping it in his coat. It was still there, when he met with the merchant and the middleman.

The discussion was productive. The merchant would deliver the pottery to one of the larger towns between Kyoto and Tokyo. The middleman would then finish the journey to Tokyo. It was a good route, and Hiko approved. It was a shame there wasn’t any sake available to celebrate, and that the middleman was pressed for time.

“Just enough to have a quick lunch.” He joked.

“The Akabeko is a good place.” Hiko offhandedly recommended.

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Well, these are only rumors.” Under Hiko’s leveled gaze, the middleman coughed. “But I heard that it will be sold soon.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“That is how it is, when women marry. The Akabeko’s owner is a woman, isn’t she? And from what I heard, she will prepare to sell it. A wife cannot have a restaurant of her own, after all.”

He forced out a reply. “In that case, that’s all the more reason to pay a visit before it closes.” The middleman agreed, although he was too busy to pay a visit that afternoon.

Hiko was not. Fortunately, Sekihara was outside, sweeping the street in front of the Akabeko. She looked up, her smile warm. “Hiko-san, how are you?” It was as if they had picked up again, where they had left off. It was terribly comforting. “I’m sorry again, about the wakame.”

“I understand.” He cut to the point. “What’s this about you and marriage?”

“There’s nothing to it, it’s just people talking. There’s no harm.” She said, but her light smile wasn’t genuine. Hiko glanced over her. From what he remembered, the Akabeko was usually packed at this time, but only half the tables were occupied.

He jerked his head in that direction, to the bright purple flowers in one corner. “I see that you arranged the wisteria branch.”

“Yes, I did. It looks so lovely in the vase.” She beamed, and Hiko would have been satisfied. Except, for the nearby shopkeeper noticing her expression. He whispered to his neighbor, who glanced at them.

He cleared his throat. “That’s what it was for.”

Her smile slipped, and her grip on the broom handle tightened. “Of course. Right.”

“But I’d like some sake before I go.” He didn’t tell her why. It would be unkind to brag that his business was doing well, while hers wasn’t.

Her smile was wry. “It’s the middle of the day, Hiko-san. But you come in, I’ll give you a cup.”

“Thank you.” He graciously nodded.

“It’s because you look overheated. We’ve had a conversation like this before.” She reminded him about one of their first meetings, in Kyoto.

“I prefer sake. Even though that kakigori was decent, I’m sure it isn’t the same here.”

“It really isn’t.” She laughed. Hiko watched her, until she disappeared behind the curtain.

“Oh, I just missed her.” Someone lamented, and Hiko realized it was the real estate hunter. “It makes me want to order sake as well.”

Hiko did not comment, impassive against the man’s wheedling. He must have been eavesdropping…and it was likely this was not the first time he had been loitering around. That made him pointedly glare at the real estate hunter.

His expression subtly changed, revealing a hint of slyness. “No dried, salted seaweed? Perhaps, you’ll be lucky next time.” Then, he slipped away, leaving Hiko tense.

How had he known about the wakame?

Sekihara returned, waving a hand to beckon him inside. “Hiko-san, you didn’t have to stand there.”

“My leg’s fine.” He paid the waitress managing the money, before turning to Sekihara. He downed the sake, and the burn invigorated him. He gripped her shoulder, meeting her eyes. “Stay strong, Sekihara.”

“Y-yes, I know.” Then, her free hand lifted to cover his. “That’s how I live.”

It was the same for him. And he would definitely resolve this problem.

* * *

Finally, after six weeks, his cast was removed. Around his hospital bed, doctors were approving of how his leg had healed. To him, it was white noise. He had other things to worry about.

When he left the hospital, he scanned his surroundings. He happened to glimpse down the road and recognized two familiar faces. One was the real estate hunter; the other was the post office clerk. They were talking, and simultaneously, they broke into laughter. The clerk clapped the back of the other man.

Shit, they were _friends_.

Hiko retreated, carefully going the opposite way. If the clerk knew Sekihara’s mailbox, he could have gone through her mail to benefit the real estate hunter. A correspondence with a man, who was known to visit, would have been a breakthrough in undermining Sekihara’s livelihood. Either of them could have planted the idea, that it was an official courtship and she would be selling the restaurant to get married. Whether it was to her suppliers, her customers, or the neighborhood gossips, the rumor would have easily spread.

He swore under his breath.

He had realized it too late. Every hour, the Akabeko was sapped away, and they were keeping tabs on its slow decline. She was battling for her business, with hardly a minute to spare. He couldn’t contact her, not even through writing.

Now, he realized what he would have to do. He would not regret it, he would _not_. Still, he felt a pang in his chest at how inescapable it was.


	31. Unagi

It would have been a warm day, if it hadn’t rained in the morning. Wind blew through the streets, too cool to be refreshing, yet the air smelled wonderfully clean. Tae held the door open for Yahiko and Tsubame, who had arrived with fresh vegetables from the market.

“Thank you, you two. I hope it wasn’t that cold out there.”

Tsubame shook her head. “We didn’t take very long, so we were fine.”

“It’s nothing compared to training in the winter.” Yahiko set a bag of potatoes down, and then drew an envelope from within his shirt. “Oh, and here’s a letter from Kenshin’s master. He said he changed his mind about going to the post office, so I’m giving it to you.”

“Thank you, Yahiko-kun.” She resisted the urge to open it immediately and instead tucked it into her apron pocket. “How is he doing? Did he receive the wakame?” She had sent the dried seaweed through the mail, but she hadn’t received a reply until now.

“He said it wasn’t bad, and he could go home any day.”

She had expected as much, she had noticed how much better he was doing. But still, hearing Yahiko made it more final, more real. “I see. Well, it was nice to see him here in Tokyo.”

“But, you haven’t visited in a week, Tae-san…” Tsubame’s gaze was full of concern, but she smiled in return.

“It’s good that his leg has fully healed. That’s what matters.” Then, she urged them to prepare for the day while she continued to train the staff in advertising. Late last night, she had come up with a charming slogan, and practiced it out loud with them. Machi and Jun were in the front of the group; she made sure not to let her hand linger on her apron, any longer than necessary.

It wasn’t until after the lunch hour had ended, that she had a moment to herself. She had finished sweeping behind the restaurant and the quiet atmosphere was tempting. After glancing around, she drew the envelope from her pocket and opened it. One sentence was written in brisk brush strokes.

_After you close for the day, come to that shrine._

She thought for a moment. _Which shrine? Oh! The one where we took shelter, when we were caught in the rain. It’s not too far, but why not here or the dojo? Unless…it’s for privacy._

Tae abruptly refolded the paper, mentally berating herself.

 _Now I’m just being ridiculous! There isn’t any way he thinks of me like_ that _,_ _not at all!_

Her cheeks burned, and she desperately wanted a fresh breeze. “Oh, dear.” She sighed. It was terribly bittersweet to like someone, and especially for her. She didn’t have the best luck in relationships, and she had thought she was content in encouraging others. But she couldn’t see how she could confess to Hiko-san, before he left. Or if she would. Right now, her feelings were like clouds that had just shifted, and she was only happy to be around him. She was sure it showed, she knew she had been more aware and attentive. However…

However, she doubted Hiko-san thought of her as more than a friend. Trusting her with his past or telling her to be strong in her situation, those weren’t the same as romantic love.

She reminded herself of that, for the rest of the day. When night fell and the last customer left, she told Tsubame she was heading out. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Yes, Tae-san.” She smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The walk was short, most likely because she was hurrying. In the dark distance, fireflies stirred, blinking in and out. Then, as she approached, a lantern’s glow caught her eye. Hiko-san was sitting on the steps of the shrine, his eyes closed.

“Hiko-san, good evening.” She greeted and joined him on the steps. They weren’t close enough to touch, but hyperawareness buzzed through her. “Have you been waiting very long?”

“No.” He cleared his throat, his eyelids snapping open. She expected him to continue, but he didn’t. He kept looking straight ahead, and she drew her own gaze away from his profile. The silence was apprehensive, before at last, he said. “The wakame was good.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.” She tried to keep her tone light. “How have Kenshin and Kaoru been?”

“They’re the same, day in and day out. Ridiculously happy, with the brat. I grew tired of it.”

“But you’ll still visit.” She gave a knowing smile. “And I’ll let you know how they are, when I visit Kyoto in a couple of months.”

He didn’t reply for a long while. Then, he turned to look directly at her for the first time that night. “No, you shouldn’t.”

She was taken aback. “I _shouldn’t?_ I think I can-”

“How’s the Akabeko?”

She swallowed hard. “We’re hanging in there. The situation hasn’t changed, from what I could tell.”

“I found out otherwise. Did you know about the rumor, that you’re getting married and selling the restaurant?”

Tae felt cold. “No. But…that would explain some of the looks I’ve been getting.” She had thought her acquaintances were being encouraging, not congratulatory. “Who on earth could I marry-oh.” Now, she blushed and hastily said. “It’s a misunderstanding.”

“And yet, that misunderstanding was exploited by the real estate hunter. He’s even gotten into your mail, he’s friends with a postal worker. So, it’s best that we shouldn’t have any contact, to have a clean break.” He stood, and his expression was surprisingly gentle. “I have no desire to take your livelihood from you. You’ve worked hard, to be established and respected. If my presence threatens that, then I can’t stay around you.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond immediately. Because he was _right_. “I understand, the best thing is to let this relationship cool. If there’s nothing between us, there’s nothing to exploit to hurt me. This is goodbye.”

“Do you resent me?”

“I…” She stopped herself and carefully phrased her response. “When we first met at the Shirobeko, I didn’t think very highly of you. However, we happened to see each other more often since then, and I learned to see you as a friend. And now…” _I think I’m in love with you, just when we have to cut off all contact. So, please-_

“I’m not happy about it either. But I care for you, so for your sake, I’ll leave you.”

_Care for me? How vague…could he really mean…?_

She moved to stand. He didn’t touch her, but they were close enough that she could recognize the scent of his coat. When he handed her the lantern, their fingers didn’t brush. His face was perfectly calm. “Goodbye, Sekihara.” Almost in slow motion, he turned around and began to walk.

“Hiko-san!” He did look back, and she straightened. She couldn’t confess, but she would see him off with a smile. “Travel safely.”

He only gave that smirk, maddening and endearing and bitter all at once. Then he left, his shadow melding into the night.

Slowly, Tae went back the way she came. Her eyes began to burn halfway through, and she didn’t stop blinking, until she had returned to the empty Akabeko.

* * *

“How was the eel, Tae?” Her father asked.

“Delicious.” She did her best to smile. The unagi had been cooked nicely, the skin sweet and soft from the steamed rice. “You were right, that was the best stall.”

Obon would begin in a few days, and yesterday, she had stayed at her parents’ little farm. It was flourishing, the colorful array of vegetables ripening. Today, they ventured into the city, despite the heat, and eating eel was for strength and stamina.

“Okaa-san, are you alright?”

Her mother had been quiet, and she sheepishly shrugged. “I want to see Sae and the baby, that’s all. We look forward to meeting your friends too.”

“Yes, they’ll be here later in the week, Tsubame-chan first.” Kenshin, Kaoru, and Kenji would join them later, for they had to pay respects to a grave here in Kyoto. She set down her chopsticks. “Then, let’s go to the Shirobeko.”

The restaurant was busy, yet Toru met them at the door. “Hello, everyone. Sae’s upstairs, Makoto’s just woken up from his nap.”

“Thank you, Toru. You look well.”

His smile was wry. “We’ve had less sleep, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Sae practically lit up, as she patted her son’s back. Makoto’s face was red from crying, but he was adorably plump. Otou-san was pleased, and Okaa-san fussed over her grandson. Tae held him for a while, laughing at his confused expression.

“I do look like your mother, don’t I? Well, you’ll be able to tell us apart when you’re older. Be on your best behavior in the meantime.”

Sae beamed. “Don’t worry, he’s a good child.” Motherhood suited her sister, and Tae was happy for her.

Dinner was rowdy, most of it friendly teasing over Masa and Hotaka’s wedding plans. Yasu kept calling for toasts in their favor, and the laughter grew each time. The reverie lasted until evening, when they had to return to the farm. It was only for the day, they would back for Obon, but per usual, it was reluctant to leave. Amidst the drawn-out goodbyes, Sae approached her, quietly saying. “Are you alright? You seemed a little melancholy. Is it because of that friend you can no longer meet?”

She nodded. “I’m fine, it was for the best.”

Her sister took her hand, squeezing gently. “If you ever need anything, let me know. I’m always here for you.”

Tae squeezed back. “Of course, and the same goes for you.”

The next morning, she excused herself, explaining she would be returning to the city. “I’ll be back later, I want to buy some souvenirs for my employees in Tokyo.”

“Be safe.” Her father reminded, and her mother waved her off.

It didn’t take her very long, to buy enough sweets that would satisfy the girls, so she headed for Natsuko’s grave. It had been tended to, the flowers were starting to brown and wilt. Tae lit an incense stick for her and her family, the pungent smoke lingering in the heavy air. Cicada song rose and fell, and her gaze was pulled towards the nearby mountains.

She should have returned to her parents’ home. Instead, she changed direction, walking on the road leading out of Kyoto.

_I want to see you. I want to tell you that the Akabeko is recovering. We still don’t have as many customers as we used to, but it’s slow progress. No one’s been offering to buy the restaurant, so it seems we’re in the clear. Perhaps, we don’t need to cut each other off completely._

But it didn’t turn out that way.

When she reached the clearing, he wasn’t there. She called out, and was met with silence. The house was empty, and so was his pottery workshop. Hiko-san was not at home.

Tae laughed, she couldn’t help it. She supposed he was selling his wares elsewhere, and it was just as well. It was foolish to be here, the current state of things was still so fragile. “Alright. Then, whenever fate decides it, we’ll meet again.” She murmured, before turning back towards Kyoto.

And hopefully, her feelings would not fade.


	32. Sakurayu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far! There'll be one more omake so stick with me for just a little longer!

Hiko was not inside his house when it surrendered to gravity. Subconsciously, he had expected it to happen, because the beams were beginning to rot, and he had only replaced one. Still, he had gone to buy more clay and returned to wreckage.

He stared for a moment, at the broken roof and walls. The commissions were in the workshop, but it wasn’t _that_ much consolation. He took a long pull from his jug, before clearing the debris. The crockery was smashed, his futon impaled by a large plank. It was tedious to avoid splinters, but as he moved the worst part of a shelf, something distracted him.

A paper rested on the floorboards, yellowed and forgotten. He unfolded the creases, and was startled. In one corner, his features were drawn in faded pencil. This was the only portrait his sister ever made. He thought he had thrown it in the fire, along with her other letters during his attempt to drink himself into the afterlife. It must have been misplaced, and listlessly, he began to read the contents.

_Nii-san,_

_Here’s that picture I promised you. Please don’t mock it, I tried my best, to make it close!_

_There’s been a cold going around the village. Don’t worry, I haven’t been sick and neither has Yoshiro. I make sure we’re both warm, and the baby is too. It’s a lively child, kicking right now!_

_Do you have enough blankets and firewood? There must be enough food near Kyoto, but I worry about you carrying a sword. You must be bothered, but that is my lot in life as your sister, and now that I’ve met you again, I intend to cherish it. We’re family, always. Isn’t that so nice?_

_I hope to see you in Hida soon._

_Natsuko_

“Damn it.” He immediately left the clearing and shoved the letter in his coat pocket, where it seemed to weigh heavily. The wind barely had any bite left, for winter was truly gone.

He kept walking; by late afternoon, he was in Kyoto. The gravestone was overgrown, and he tore out the surrounding weeds. “What is it with you, Natsuko, and collapsed houses?” He said aloud.

But then again, the house had been thirty years old. It was inevitable to lose it, as he had lost so many things. And he had gained others, some fleeting and some more constant, but he never forgot any of them. That was the way he lived.

He splashed his jug’s contents onto the stone, before quietly promising. “I’ll be back for Obon.”

And with that, he continued his detour to the post office. It was fortunate, for there was a letter from Tokyo. “It’s about time they had another brat.” He muttered, but he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. After all, it had been four years, since he had last visited.

* * *

“Shishou, you’re here early.”

This was a sight that brought back memories. His idiot apprentice was still playing the part of housewife, airing out futons in the yard. However, he now kept an eye on a little boy, running his shinai through the new spring grass.

“My house broke down.”

The idiot’s eyes widened. “Are you alright?”

“As you can see, not a scratch. I was out at the time, and before you ask, I’ve made preparations for the repairs while I’m gone. Now come here, you brat.” He beckoned Kenji over, and the boy screamed with delight as Hiko lifted him. “Hm, you’ve grown a little, since last summer.”

“Shishou!” Kenji repeated his father’s greeting. “More Hiten Mits’rugi?”

“My place needs to be rebuilt first, but that should be before the year’s end.”

His apprentice only smiled. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

“Yes, we will.” The tanuki girl stepped out of the house, with a fire in her eyes. “Kenji’s been learning more from me. The third generation of Kamiya Kasshin has to be secured somehow.”

“Oro! But there’s the new baby. Would you like to see him, Shishou?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He made a show of shrugging and was led to the cradle. At the sleeping infant bundled within, he bluntly said. “It’s an exact copy of the first one.”

“No, Shinpei has darker hair, it’s more brown than red.” The tanuki girl argued. “Anyway, you can figure out the difference soon enough. Won’t you stay here with us, until your house is fixed?”

“You can stay as long as you like, Shishou.” His apprentice mildly said, but Kenji protested.

“No, stay forever!”

“Shh, Kenji.”

However, it was too late. Shinpei sleepily opened his eyes –blue, Hiko noticed—but didn’t cry. Instead, he yawned and absently smiled. Good grief, this one was going to turn out like his idiot father.

“I refuse to stay _forever_ , but I can manage until the shrine visit at the end of the week. The first brat shows more promise for Hiten Mitsurugi, anyway.”

Kenji was overly excited, already climbing up Hiko’s leg at the mention of the sword style. He must have realized there was something in the coat pocket, for he asked. “Is this candy?” Hiko could have stopped him, but he didn’t. Kenji’s small hand drew out Natsuko’s letter and he exclaimed. “Ah, it’s a picture!”

Somehow, he didn’t feel melancholy, seeing the brat admire the pencil drawing. “That was made by my sister.”

“Oh.”

“That’s enough, Kenji.” His apprentice intervened. “Give the paper back, it belongs to him. There you are, Shishou.” He gently pried his son’s fingers off and returned the letter, without looking at it, while the brat sullenly went to his mother.

The tanuki girl had picked up the newborn, and as she patted her older son’s back, she firmly said. “We’re sorry, Hiko-san. It’s come up before, but that’s your business. Kenji, apologize to Hiko-san.”

The boy pouted slightly, but he clenched his fists and looked up at Hiko. “Sorry!” Behind him, his parents smiled approvingly, and the baby cooed at being held.

Damn his weakness.

“It was an accident, there’s no point in apologizing. For that matter, I’ll share everything tonight.” He addressed his apprentice and the tanuki girl, and he almost relished their shocked expressions.

After the children’s nightly routine caused enough delay, he talked until the very end. His apprentice was completely silent, while the tanuki girl occasionally wiped at her eyes. By the end of it, she didn’t bother. “Um, I think I’ll check on Kenji and Shinpei. Excuse me.” Her voice was strained. “But thank you, Hiko-san. Thank you for telling us all of that.”

Then, it was quiet again, before his apprentice finally spoke. “This one is also glad, that you told us.”

“Is that all?”

He ignored the sarcasm. “When this one was younger, this one didn’t understand you. This one thought you didn’t know anything about the world, when it was really the opposite. You already realized how harsh the world was, and this one was wrong, to judge you so hastily.”

“Idiot, how could you have known?” He scoffed. ”I let you go, thinking you’d learn the hard way. Perhaps if I knew just how terrible your choices were, I would have gone after you. Perhaps.” He reiterated.

“Regardless, it is all in the past, Shishou.” His apprentice’s expression softened, his gaze on the house’s interior, and Hiko nodded. It was a tacit agreement that the present mattered now, and they understood each other, a little more.

And so, the week slowly went by. The morning of the shrine visit was hectic, with too many last-minute errands, and the baby was fussing from lack of sleep. Hiko offered to buy pickled cherry blossoms, for sakurayu. “I can be spared, just go to the shrine.” With the amount of tea they needed, he would surely miss the ceremony, but he argued against their protests, saying he didn’t mind.

It wasn’t the only thing he had anticipated.

When he returned, only a few others had arrived, and none with a white kerchief. The granddaughters of some doctor were cooing over the new brat, to someone’s jealousy. With all the effort a five-year-old could muster, Kenji tried to push the two girls away. “He’s _my_ brother! Mine!”

His apprentice carried him away, promising assistance in the kitchen, and offhandedly said to Hiko. “Tae-dono went to the Akabeko, to pick up Tsubame-chan and the sekihan. She should return soon.” And he grinned, the idiot.

Stoically, Hiko took a corner for himself and sipped a salty cup of sakurayu. Eventually, the crowd thickened with unfamiliar faces, and growing weary, he closed his eyes.

“Is this seat taken?”

That familiar voice was hesitant, and he smirked. “No.” After rustling movement ceased, he stole a glimpse. Sekihara drank from her own cup of tea, her face calm and carefree.

“It’s been a while, Hiko-san.” She smiled. “But, you haven’t changed.”

So, they weren’t like strangers after all. He cleared his throat. “Neither have you. How’s your business?”

“It’s doing very well. I’m actually about to open another location. It’s the Kobeko, in a small town on the Tokaido road. I’ll give you the address, there are pottery workshops as well.”

“I suppose I could visit, while my house is being rebuilt.”

“I heard about that.” Her voice was touched with concern. “I’m relieved that you’re alright…will you stay here then?”

“Not for long. The new brat’s been coughing.”

“I see.” She paused. “Would you prefer accompanying me at the Kobeko? I have a house , not too close to the town.”

“That’s bold of you.”

She blushed, and he realized how much he had missed that expression. “Yes, as I should have been four years ago. But I was afraid of what the future held and even of how I felt. I wasn’t sure what you thought either.”

He leaned back, deliberately taking his time to look at her. “Obviously, I was in love with you, from the beginning.”

She sharply inhaled. “You were?”

“That was why I couldn’t take you away from your livelihood. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been the Sekihara I fell for.”

“Yes, but I liked you too. And…I think I still do.” There was budding hope in her eyes, her lips parted-

Abruptly, he glanced away. “I’ll consider your offer. But I’m difficult to live with.”

“I already guessed that.”

“And you still offered anyway.”

“Because it might be worth it. Aren’t you willing to find out, Hiko-san?” She gave a charming smile, which was probably her best. He’d have to learn, to say no to that expression.

“Maybe, maybe not.” He was probably growing far too soft, but right now, he decided he didn’t care.

Under the table, she moved her hand next to his, so they laid side by side on the tatami. Her skin was just brushing his, and it only took him a second to move his fingers over hers. He kept looking ahead, ignoring her startled expression when she turned to him.

The room was filled with the other guests’ cheerful conversation. A scruffy man, a sharp-eyed woman, a couple with a stark height difference. An officer’s family, a group of laughing teenagers. His apprentice held the newborn, and the tanuki girl gave a cup of water to the older brat.

“It’s a lovely afternoon.” Sekihara remarked, with a nervous laugh.

He allowed himself to smile. “So it is.”

And still, he didn’t pull away.


	33. Omake: Kasutera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it. I went back and forth over how to execute it, until finally putting it together last night. I only wish I could have written it earlier, but I’m glad that I can at least give the story this epilogue. Thank you to the readers around the world, for loving this story just as much as I have. I truly appreciate all the support I’ve received.

Sunlight warmed the porch, as Hiko removed the lid from the box in his lap. Six teacups were nestled within, each in its own compartment. There wasn’t a single flaw in the off-white ceramic. The underglaze had turned out well: a painted maple leaf in the bottom of each cup, as if it had fallen straight from the branch, and below the rim, delicate red lines crossing each other. Like the so-called strings of fate, like the vessels that carried the blood of life.

Carefully, he examined every cup, to ensure no breaks had occurred during the journey. Indeed, they remained pristine. As expected of his own handiwork. It had been sixteen years since a set of matching cups was given to his apprentice’s family, and this time, he would be the one to personally gift it.

Satisfied, he closed the box and tucked it under the porch. There, it would be concealed until he presented it tomorrow. They were going out tonight, so it was best to keep it safe.

Hiko rose, and entered the house. It was completely silent, and he had to enjoy it while he could. He had arrived in Tokyo with the morning sun, and naturally, the Himura family had been eager to see him. Then, his idiot apprentice and the tanuki woman had gone to the train station, to pick up their friends. The older brats had left for the fish market, to purchase tonight’s dinner. Well, he deserved a break from their attention anyway.

Something stirred in the hallway, and Hiko quietly moved to the front door. Then, he stood on the first step, directing his full attention to listening. The footsteps were light, the ki practically bursting with intent.

The door opened.

“Stop.” He warned, and the presence did pause. “Where are you going?”

“…out.”

“Is that so?” He had to bend his head downwards, to glare at the child. Long red hair was tousled from sleep, and little hands gripped the edge of the door. No matter how much Tae cooed over Himura Sumire had grown so big, the girl brat would always be small to him. She was as small as her brothers had been at four years old. “Well, at least you were honest, representative of the flower you were named after. And you know why you were left behind.”

“I can be good!” She protested and stamped her foot in indignation. It only disproved her point. “And I don’t want to nap anymore.”

“In life, it doesn’t matter what you want. Go back to bed.” Otherwise, she’d be even more annoying in the evening, during the cherry blossom viewing. The taste of sake would be ruined.

“No!”

Of course, his apprentice’s only daughter had to inherit his stubbornness, along with his coloring. “I’ll tell you an embarrassing story about your father, if you do.”

“Which one?”

“The story in which he fell into a patch of poison ivy and then ran to the nearest stream, only to be swept along with the current.”

“Keita-nii told me that. You were watching the whole time, but you brought Tou-chan out of the water.”

To him, the stream had been shallow enough to walk in. “Ah, brat three has a good memory. I told him that one when he was your age, and to brats one and two before him. If you’ve heard it, then I give up.” He opened the door wider to let himself in and pushed Sumire’s shoulder with two fingers. She took a few steps before stopping again.

“Wait!”

“What is it now?”

“I want to hear the one where he saw Kaa-chan in your pottery house.” She meant his place in Kyoto, and when his idiot apprentice came to him, to learn the final techniques of Hiten Mitsurugi.

He laughed. “It sounds like your mother already told you.”

“But I want to hear what you saw.”

“What I saw?” He propped his chin on his hand. “Hmph. Your father looked like a fish, his mouth was open like one. He just stared at her, he was making her nervous with how speechless he was. In short, he was an idiot. An idiot, who was loved. And he’s still a loved idiot, which is why we’re having this unnecessary amount of celebration with too many people.”

“Oh.” She pouted. “I don’t like the way you tell it. Kaa-chan tells it much better.”

“You were the one who asked for it, girl brat. Now, before I get annoyed. Go. To. Bed.”

“Aww.”

* * *

 

Tae hummed to herself, as she carried the kasutera.

She had been in Tokyo for the last two weeks, managing the Akabeko. Tsubame’s little daughter was teething and her impatience was reminiscent of a young Yahiko. He was guest teaching at another dojo with their son, Tsubame hurriedly explained as she struggled with the flailing toddler, but the four of them would arrive on time for tonight’s outdoor picnic.

“Hello?” She stepped into the Himura household, and realized she had to raise her voice above the noise. When she entered the dining room, they greeted her. “Oh, all four of you are here.”

With his copper hair in a high ponytail and a wooden sword in his belt, Kenji was sixteen and would have made for a young samurai in the old era. He was trying to steer Sumire away from his cup of black coffee.

“Add sugar.” She insisted.

“I won’t, so shut it.” He was forcing down sips, trying to toughen up.

“You should, it’ll help with your terrible temper.” Eight-year-old Keita didn’t even look up from his book, as he gave the sharp remark. Of the children, his hair was the darkest, and his demeanor the calmest.

“Okay, let’s behave. Tae-san’s here.” Shinpei was wearing the Kamiya dojo’s uniform, and it was likely he would inherit his mother’s teaching position someday. He gave his characteristic, cheerful smile. “Is that kasutera?”

“Kasutera! I love that, it’s fluffy and delicious.” Sumire looked as if she was going to drool.

Tae set the cake on the kitchen counter. “I brought it from the Akabeko. We can share some of it, for a snack.” It seemed that a sweet tooth came with red-tinted hair. When the plate of cubed kasutera was served, they instantly quieted, savoring the treat.

While she poured herself some coffee, Hiko appeared, nonchalantly sitting next to her as if he had seen her an hour ago, and not half a month. “Well, I had to find a new hiding place.”

“That’s alright. I’m sure they’ll like it.” She thought the cups were beautiful and symbolic. Fitting, for this family they both held dear.

“How have things been here?”

“Better than I expected, I think two more weeks will be enough. Then, I’ll return to the Kobeko.”

“Good. Let’s go back together.”

Tae smiled. Despite their own places in Tokyo and Kyoto, she was also fond of the house on the Tokaido road. It was an art-loving home, with her favorite paintings displayed on the walls and some of his works arranged in the rooms. Natsuko’s last letter was framed on the altar for her family, so “it wouldn’t be lost again”, as he said. Sometimes, he stayed there by himself if he needed to sell his pottery. When she had to assist the Kobeko’s staff, she was there alone. They had their own lives to lead, but when they could, they always came back to each other.

“Of course. I missed you too.” She said, and at that, he smirked.

In the distance, there was the sound of faint chatter.

“Oh, it sounds like Tou-chan and Kaa-chan are home.” Keita set down his chopsticks. “I can definitely hear Misao-san and the girls…poor Aoshi-san. It must have been endless on the train.”

“Then, they must be tired. Megumi-san and Sano-san are probably here too, so let’s properly greet everyone.” Shinpei suggested and took the hand of his younger sister.

“Guess so.” Kenji shrugged, but he followed his siblings, catching up to them with his longer strides. Tae looked at Hiko, who only stared back at her.

“Why don’t we join them?”

“It’s a pain to get up.”

“You don’t mean that.” She paused. “ _Dear_.”

She continued referring to him as Hiko-san in public, but at the start of their relationship, she was unsure of how to address him in private. He had given her an incredulous look at Seijuro-san, snorted derisively at Sei-san, and didn’t respond to just Seijuro. Giving up, she had tried ‘dear’. And always, he told her not to repeat it. But he never rejected it, his face turning red without fail. After all this time, it was still satisfying to get a reaction out of him.

“Fine,” He grumbled, and Tae beamed at the growing color in his face. “But I’ll stay here if you say that again.”

“It’s a deal.” She stood, feeling very happy.

Their group crowded onto the front steps, watching as the gate slowly opened. And in one voice, they called out. “Welcome back!”


End file.
